


The way you are

by AllTheSnakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:16:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 86,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllTheSnakes/pseuds/AllTheSnakes
Summary: Office/AUNo matter the universe, Crobby is meant to be.





	1. The prediction

**Author's Note:**

> They are all human and basically the same characters we know and love, fighting their demons and shocked when miracles happen.

Meg Masters entered her boss’ office ready for a fight.

She wanted to be promoted. 

She wanted a position of power in the company. Preferably, not in Human Resources, where she has been stuck for the last years. 

She would rather go back to the more aggressive branches, like Selling, where she had been before, and where she heard there was to be vacant position any moment, thanks to a retirement.

Meg had always worked under Mister Crowley, and she was sick of him. 

He appeared from nowhere with his cool manners and foreign accent, started small but quickly proved to be brilliant. When he won the position as head of Selling, she latched onto him as Main Assistant, believing it was a matter of time for them to go up in the food chain.

However, his methods clashed with the rest of the managers: he talked about integrity, and Hell’s Bells had never been a company specially known as trustworthy. Besides, the firm had started as a family business, many of the founders were still alive and kicking, and he was seen as an intruder.

So, soon he had to choose between being constantly attacked by the senior guys (and gals – Abaddon was especially fierce and demeaning) or accept a relatively off-center position.

That’s how he ended up in Human Resources, taking Meg down with him.

(Well, it was not exactly down, but she liked to think of it that way. It gave fuel to her hatred.)

To her despair, Crowley soon proved to be too damn good at hiring and managing people – as good as he had been in Selling, in fact. 

All that jazz about integrity gave results: he was given a new secretary (chosen by himself personally after exhausting interviews) to get some work off Meg’s hands and a large office with a pretty view of the city. 

He was obviously comfortable.

It meant he was not going anywhere any soon.

Meg only stood a chance of finding her own path or taking his place if he died.

And she was not ready to murder anyone.

(Yet.)

Even if she hated him with all her heart.

It was not worth it.

(Yet.)

Well, Crowley had called her to his office, the position in Selling was open and she definitively was ready to fight for a chance to break free.

 

xxx

 

Meg glared just out of habit at the annoying red-haired secretary when the woman closed the door but stayed in the room with them.

If Crowley wanted to brag about a position Meg would never get if it depended on him, she would finally have a real reason to confront the man openly.

Her blood boiled in anticipation.

It was not their style, but maybe they had decided to mock her.

Some yelling would feel great. Meg firmly believed she was entitled to satisfaction, now and then, once life had put her in what was currently a minor extension of an otherwise quite big business, dealing day in and day out with stupid people.

‘Miss Masters’, her boss greeted her coldly, ‘Please, have a seat’.

Meg sat in the chair in front of his desk.

Crowley was all clad in black, as always, and sporting a gray tie.

The familiar combination – he always wore layers of black, and his ties were always gray or silver, with red making an appearance just when he needed to impress – was enough to irritate her.

His dark hair and pale skin fed her angriness even more.

The sight of his smooth face and serious greenish eyes always managed to pull out her darkest scowl.

She could feel her own eyes blackening in hatred.

‘Miss Bradbury here has some papers for you to read and, hopefully to all of us, sign’, the boss stated, and the redhead approached with what seemed a contract in her hands, ‘I’ll explain briefly what these are aimed at, and I expect an immediate answer from you’.

Meg frowned, took the material and started reading it.

It was a transference deal.

To the exact position she had wanted, in Selling.

Meg stared at her current boss’ face, ‘What is this supposed to mean?’

‘Alastair’s right arm retired, as the old crone – and I mean Alistair – has been announcing for some time. I know you want a change. I can practically feel the daggers your eyes throw at me, and how you wish they were not metaphorical’.

His words seemed teasing, but his general attitude was as humorless as always.

Meg never knew if he was mocking her or just being completely honest, so unemotional were his manners.

At least there was one thing to keep her from hating him completely – his sick sense of humor, or whatever was that thing he usually did.

‘I have some influence’, he resumed speaking, ‘I mentioned, to the right people, details of your work and how invested and competent you are. I may have called you obsessive and relentless…’, he pursed his lips and looked away, as if trying to remember if he had done that, and then focused back on her, ‘Alistair eventually decided to check on you and found out he liked what he saw’, he indicated the leaves in her hands with a lazy gesture, ‘So, you put your name in those and you’re ready for a new life as soon as you walk out that door’.

‘What’s the catch?’, Meg squinted, ‘You know I don’t like you. Isn’t your politics ‘friends close and enemies closer’, anymore?’, she scoffed, ‘Not that you have any friends, besides, maybe, the looser standing right there’.

Charlie just rolled her eyes, used to the brunette’s ill words.

Crowley glanced at his secretary to asses her reaction and, seeing she was not affected, faced Meg again, ‘You’re poisonous. Keeping you close and unsatisfied is not worth the trouble’. 

Meg could feel her own nostrils flaring.

Her body was trying to detect the trap as if it would have some weird scent.

‘However, you’re right’, Crowley sat back on his chair, adjusting his already perfect tie, ‘There’s an agenda to your transference’.

‘I’m listening’.

The man in black breathed deeply, his eyes wandering by the room in an annoying calculating way while he ordered his thoughts and chose carefully his next words.

He was famous by his appearance of calmness and complete control.

No one has ever seen him stammer or act surprised. No matter what happened, he always reacted as if the facts fitted exactly into his plans and calculations.

He only lost his composure in some very well-chosen circumstances, and even then it was just a momentary menacing glare followed by some yells aimed at coaxing someone who had been annoyingly resistant to his arguments.

It was usually gone so quick that everyone was convinced it was just a façade, and that there was no real fire inside Roderick Crowley.

He resumed talking in the same monotone voice, ‘I can barely wait for you to kick Alastair off Hell’s Bells’.

‘What?’, Meg looked at Charlie, the secretary, to see if that was a surprise to her, but the woman was smirking, so she turned to Crowley again, ‘You want me to plot with you against one of the oldest and most powerful Board Directors?’

‘No, no plotting with me. I want nothing with that’, Crowley adjusted his lapels unnecessarily, ‘Everybody knows Alastair has been using the company for some dirty business, and no one has the guts to take him down. I’m not directly affected by whatever he does, but I’d hate for the whole enterprise to be ruined because some moron decided to use his position of power for disgusting pursues’.

‘If it doesn’t affect you, what do you gain putting me there?’

Crowley looked away with a slight frown in his face, and for a moment Meg wondered if he was seeing in his mind the things Alastair did.

Crowley blinked, the frown was gone, and he looked at Meg again, ‘I know of your abilities and capacity. I want to give you the opportunity to take his place or be crushed’.

‘Didn’t it cross your mind that I could just ally with him?’

‘That’s the point: you won’t’, there was a rare glimmer in his eyes, ‘Two snakes from different species together may pretend they respect each other, but they’re just studying the enemy. Sooner or later, they are going to attack’, Crowley leaned a bit forward, ‘Who is going to win? The one who bites first? The one who bites better?’, he shrugged, ‘Anyway, I get rid of one of you, and that’s enough of a win-win situation for me’.

Meg looked at the contract in her hands again.

If he was being sincere – and he was always annoyingly sincere –, he was putting her in a position where he thought she had a chance of being successful. 

He was even counting on the possibility of her getting rid of an enemy.

Not accepting the offer was admitting she didn’t think she could take off Alastair, and she knew she could. She had been researching his life and his business tactics, already, knowing there was a real possibility of attack and victory, there. 

She knew enough to get the old man to his knees now; she probably needed not more than a month as an inside woman to throw him through the front door, humiliated – or even better, in jail, with Lucifer.

That’s why she had been wanting so hard that position, in fact.

‘I’ll take it’, Meg said, extending her hand for a pen.

‘You can read it first’, Crowley said, picking a pen but not putting it in her hand, yet.

‘The Geek wrote it down?’

‘Yes, it was me’, Charlie confirmed.

‘And the Demon Boss dictated the terms?’

‘Yes, I did’, Crowley answered, unamused, ‘To the last word’.

‘Then I don’t need to worry’, she grabbed the pen, ‘Everybody knows you’re the unicorns of the company – honest, correct, work-oriented, righteous’, she finished signing and stood, gave the pen back to Crowley and the papers to Charlie, ‘I surely won’t miss you’.

Crowley got up, too and, seeing the woman had already turned towards the door, he called, ‘Just one more thing, if you’ll permit me’.

Meg stopped and turned back, waiting.

‘You can take it as an advice, or a hint. I don’t care. And you may not follow it – is your call. However, I ask you to not brush what I’m going to say aside just because it came from me’.

She leaned her head, showing she had understood and was ready to listen.

‘When you start working for Alistair, be alert to everything, especially if he asks you small favors. He is known to lure people with quick offers of trust – delegating tasks and making them feel welcomed and important’, Crowley frowned, eyes astray for a moment, but gulped down and went on, ‘When you realize, he is asking – or has already asked – for something you haven’t quite noticed is wrong or not completely legal, and from that point on, you find it difficult to deny him anything. He finds your weakness – addiction, pride, loneliness – and goes right at it until you find yourself trapped’.

The man looked away again.

Meg wondered if he was dealing with some bad memories. 

He had been very close to Alistair and Lilith (the late co-founder of the firm) when he first arrived, but something had happened among them – something so disturbing that Crowley suddenly arranged a cooperation term with another company and stayed off for weeks.

After Lilith’s death, the company went through some reorganization; he came back, and his meteoric rising through Selling happened.

The bosses were all related to or had been trained by Lucifer before he was put in jail, and mocking Crowley for being a foreigner, a stranger and just treating him like a peasant came easily to them. However, he had resisted every attack against him, standing up for his ideas, for years.

At that point, Meg was sure he was going to end up President.

But then Alistair got tired of staying in a corner watching the repetitive bullying and stepped up. 

Crowley used all his talents and influence, but not to keep the position against Alistair: what he wanted, in fact, was to end up anywhere but with Alistair. If he managed to keep in a high position, better, but that was not, obviously, his priority.

And that was how he settled on HR – a branch no one wanted, but essential for the company to work; a place where he could imprint his style and do whatever he pleased, as long as everything ran smoothly.

Meg often wondered what Alistair could have done that scared away someone like Crowley.

She must be right in her musings about them, because talking about the man put his boss in such nerves that he didn’t recover from the stroll in Memory Lane.

He kept silent, had his hands closed in fists, the eyes not getting back to her face.

Charlie joined in the conversation, like she did every time Crowley needed a break, ‘We’ve had people here making complains against Alistair. Some hardcore stuff – blackmail, abusive behaviors of all sorts, some hints of drug traffic, like Lucifer – but we couldn’t do anything. There were no witnesses, no recordings, nothing. When people realize what is going on, it’s too late to get any evidence’.

Crowley nodded, hands still clenching, and added, ‘We know you don’t care for people in general. You despise most of the regular folk. That is probably one of the reasons you hate Human Resources and wanted so badly to get out of here’, he lifted his eyes to her face, ‘What we are saying is: don’t let him make one of those losers out of you’.

Meg squinted at them, ‘You’re kind of saying that I was right thinking I’m better than a lot of the people around’.

‘Don’t be foolish’, Crowley made a dismissive gesture, ‘We just count on you to be our… How did you call it, darling?’

Charlie grinned, ‘Our anti-hero’.

‘Exactly. You’re a high-functioning sociopath, like him. It means you can do whatever is necessary without any matters of conscience. We’re cheering for you in this battle because we believe your interests will coincide, this time, with the greater good’.

Meg shook her head, a shadow of a smile appearing on her face, ‘Ok, unicorns. I’ll keep that in mind’.

She nodded at them curtly and left the room.

When the door closed behind her, both people breathed in relief.

‘Have you seen the bounce in her step?’, Charlie was amused, ‘She really enjoys the back-stabbing thing’.

‘She makes me nauseous’, Crowley left himself fall on his chair, ‘The unnecessary violence. The lack of subtlety and elegance’, he shrugged.

‘At least she accepted the offer and is gone, now’.

The secretary spoke while pretending to wipe off the chair where the other woman had been.

When she was satisfied, she occupied it.

And then she stayed there, with a big grin directed at her boss.

Knowing her shenanigans, he squinted at her, ‘What do you have in mind?’

‘I have a replacement to suggest’.

‘What?’, Crowley sat straighter, a hint of fear in his usually sated features, ‘You don’t want her position?’

‘No, I don’t want her position. And, before you get the wrong idea: no, I’m not leaving. I just don’t want other position in this office’, she smirked, ‘I’m happy with Uber Secretary slash IT Super-Amazing-Secret-Specialist – aka SASS’.

Crowley relaxed and his eyes sweetened.

It was the closer to a real smile that he got.

Charlie was probably the only person who could get that reaction, and both appreciated the kind of relationship they had.

‘Thank you for clarifying it so quickly and precisely’, he said, back to his controlled self, ‘So, you have a candidate for Main Assistant? I wonder what the poor soul could have done for you to want them to share with you the burden of being my personal hands-out’.

‘It’s fun working for you’.

‘I’m known for scheming and out of the box strategies’.

‘Like I said – it’s fun’.

He scoffed.

‘You should stop speaking as if you were some gruesome boss’.

‘The lovely girl who just left the room called me Demon Boss for years’.

‘What girl? The poisonous one?’

He leaned his head, conceding the point.

‘If she had an ounce of humanity she would have loved it here’, Charlie sat at the edge of her seat for emphasis, ‘Where else you would get paid to do research on people, study their behavior, compare data and convince them to change departments through nudge or coercion?’

‘The coercion part she kind of enjoyed’.

‘Not that much. She always said she would prefer we didn’t have the person’s interest as the main goal. She often tried to be cruel just for kicks’.

Crowley frowned as if trying to understand that twisted logic, ‘That’s probably the most detrimental way to conduct business…’, then, he leaned his head, ‘Did you have a point?’

‘Yeah. Sorry’, Charlie stretched her arms like she did when she was going to start a good story or use her beloved keyboard, then settled them down again, joining her hands on her lap, her eyes bright and joyful, ‘He is the nicest guy to be around and I really would like to have him here’.

‘You mean in HR or in Hell’s Bells?’

‘He does not work here. He doesn’t even live in the city’.

Crowley was intrigued, ‘Does he have a profession or you’re bringing me a pity case?’

‘He has done a lot. Mechanic, guide for Japanese tourists in America – he speaks the language –, private teacher, cataloguer, librarian’, she counted, ‘Lately he was working as a freelancer for journalists: guy can find out anything in any book or in the internet, check-up facts and deliver them organized, all in mere hours. He loves research of all kinds and is a genius at it – exactly the type we need here’.

‘And this genius of yours needs a new job because…?’

‘Because he is an old-fashioned dude – caring, loyal, honest, with a heart of gold’, she said with a smile, then got fierce, ‘And we know how journalists can be. Many don’t have much ethics to get what they think is a good story. They’ll expose people. They’ll stalk them when they are at their worst’, she shrugged, ‘He doesn’t want to be a part of it. He started refusing jobs, and the word spread that he is surly and unmanageable’.

‘And he is not?’

‘You wouldn’t believe how sweet he is’, she spoke fondly, ‘The most well-read gentleman you’ll ever meet’.

Crowley made a face, ‘Our dear Meg would say you want me to hire another unicorn’.

‘And she would be right’, Charlie agreed enthusiastically, ‘Come on! We need to unite!’

‘You mean us, the unicorns?’

‘Yeah!’

Again, the corners of his mouth lifted a bit.

Sometimes, Charlie almost managed to get some of the painful memories off his soul.

That girl was a bless to him.

Well, there was no reason not to give her suggestion a try.

‘Do you think he can be here tomorrow for an interview?’

‘He’ll make it happen’, she stated, ‘He is one of those people who can accomplish anything’.

‘That resourceful?’, Crowley asked and, at her eager nod, he added, ‘You trust him very much’.

‘I’m telling you’, Charlie grinned, ‘You’re going to love him!’


	2. First impressions

Crowley had no idea what he expected from Charlie’s indication.

And, still, he was surprised at the person she introduced to him in the beginning of the next afternoon.

It was a middle-aged redneck.

The man was wearing a disgustingly ugly blue suit and obviously old shoes that clashed with his polite manners and intelligent eyes.

Crowley wondered if he had trimmed his beard and combed his hair in an effort to look presentable, too.

If someone squinted hard, they would be able to see the typical truck driver cap in his head.

The man looked so uncomfortable, in fact, that the suit seemed to be restraining him. Crowley would not find so absurd if he suddenly ripped off those clothes like the Hulk, revealing a plaid shirt and some old jeans under that fake ensemble.

The businessman blinked in surprise at himself.

Had he just mentally undressed and dressed the stranger in front of him?

Why did it feel like he was indulging in a fantasy?

Crowley blinked to focus, got up from his chair and extended a hand.

‘Welcome to Hell’s Bells, Mister Singer’.

‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mister Crowley’.

The handshake was quick and firm, and Crowley liked the seriousness of it.

Charlie was besides the desk, grinning stupidly at them.

Crowley turned to her, ‘Miss Bradbury, I get you and Mister Singer are friends, for you have already spoken wonders about him, but I intend on conducting this interview professionally and reach my own conclusions’.

‘Well, I would be surprised if you didn’t want to-Oh. You want me out. I get it’, she walked to the other man, opened her arms and wrapped them around him tightly, ‘Good luck, Bobby!’

‘Thank you, girl’, he smiled, a bit more relaxed at the friendly touch.

Crowley was hit by a strange feeling.

It was a kind of warmth at someone who appreciated Charlie as much as himself.

Besides, the man had a pretty shy smile.

And it was cute that a friendly hug calmed his nerves.

It spoke of a person with sensibility.

Charlie let go and finally exited, not before giving them the thumbs up.

They faced each other again, sharing a quick moment over their fondness for her.

Then, the man cleared his throat to start, ‘Mister Crowley, I-’

‘Just Crowley, please’.

‘Pardon?’

Crowley didn’t know why he had said that. He barely knew the man. He hadn’t even started the interview, yet.

And still, somehow he felt like Mister Singer already belonged there in his office. 

‘You’re older than me’, he said the first thing that came to mind, ‘It doesn’t feel right that you call me Mister or Sir. My Secretary just does that in public, and she is a lot younger than both of us’.

The man rose a brow, ‘Thought you wanted this to be professional’.

‘I do’, Crowley shrugged, ‘But for that to work, things must be how they are meant to be. Being treated like a figure of authority by someone who has been announced as a knowledgeable gentleman doesn’t seem like things in a natural order, to me’.

‘Right’, the man grunted, ‘Must remember to thank Charlie again. Not everyone thinks so high of me’.

He sported that adorable shy smile, again.

Crowley felt the nice warmth coming back full force.

‘Well, Crowley…’, the man tasted the name in his tongue, seemed to approve of how it felt, and went on, ‘It’s not Mister Singer for you, either’.

‘I’m not calling you…’, Crowley made a disgusted face, ‘…Bobby. It sounds too country-like for my sensibilities’.

‘Everybody calls me that’.

Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘Your name is Robert…’, he looked at the man in front of him from head to toe, ‘Then, Robert it is’.

The taller man made a face, but nodded.

Crowley felt an urge to smile at the long-suffering expression. 

It was like seeing someone who was used to deal with pests and didn’t really mind it, picking his battles wisely.

It was refreshing.

‘It seems we’re acquainted enough. Let’s start your interview. Please, have a seat, Robert’.

 

xxx

 

Charlie was starting to get worried.

Bobby had entered Crowley’s office a bit after 2 pm.

It was almost 4 and they had not finished the interview.

Those things didn’t last that long.

She had been biting her nails since 2 and a half. She couldn’t take much more of the suspense!

Her imaginative mind, after creating lots of hypothesis and discarding the more improbable ones (alien attack, mutual murder attempt and body-snatching entities, unfortunately), was working with two possibilities: 

1-Things between them got quickly awkward for some reason, but they had been too embarrassed to stop the nonsense and admit it hadn’t worked out. In that case, if she opened the office door right now, she would see Crowley at his desk, buried in work while pretending to be there was no one else in the room, and Bobby patiently waiting to be dismissed.

2-They were having such a great time they haven’t noticed time passing by.

First scenario was quite ridiculous, in her opinion. Bobby and Crowley were two very goal-oriented people. If things didn’t click between them, they would just say their goodbyes and part ways without much fussing.

Second scenario was highly improbable, being Bobby a quite reserved and suspicious guy and Crowley a little ball of misery coated in coldness most of the time. 

She felt her shoulders slump.

Neither scenario seemed realistic, but she didn’t have any other ideas. 

Maybe she didn’t do any favors to them when she scheduled that meeting.

When she considered Bobby for Meg’s position, Charlie took into consideration that the job required exactly the professional talents he had – focus, research, planning, objectiveness – and the people skills he had – high tolerance to annoying types and the best ways to cut off what he recognized as bullshit. She personally loved Bobby like one loves their best friends’ amazing daddy. One of the reasons why she insisted on visiting Sam and Dean was to see their surrogate father. She felt calmer and wiser just from being in the same room with him.

And she considered Crowley one of the best guys she had ever met – Charlie sincerely wanted to surround him with people he could trust and be friends with. 

In her head, the fact she liked both meant they would like each other. 

But now, not knowing what was happening behind the office’s door made her contemplate the horrifying notion that two of her favorite people in the world were at odds.

Maybe praying was a good idea.

 

xxx

 

Well, there was a limit to how many times she could tell people on the phone to call later. 

So, when the clock hands reached 4 and a half, she decided she had good reason to press the intercom button.

Crowley’s voice answered immediately, ‘Yes, darling?’

Charlie’s eyes went large.

He sounded different.

Cheerful.

She had never heard him sound like that, ever, in almost five years working for him.

‘I was just wondering, boss…’, she spoke carefully, not willing to break whatever magic was happening in that office, ‘Have you seen the time?’

‘In fact, no. Charlie is mentioning time, for some reason, Robert…’, a pause, ‘Bollocks! Did I miss many calls?’

Charlie concentrated to not let the grin appear in her voice.

She found hilarious that Crowley seemed unaware that he was at easy – and in a first name basis – with a guy he had just met, ‘A lot. But nothing we can’t fix’, she heard the sigh of relief at the other end of the line, ‘As long as you have a new Main Assistant, of course’.

‘I do’, that happy tint was there, again, ‘Robert has been hired for some time. We were just synchronizing our watches for the big scheme of things. Yes?’, there was a pause and Charlie could hear Bobby’s voice in the background, ‘Oh. Sure’, Crowley was back to talking to her, ‘He says you should come here already. You must update me on the most urgent calls and then take him for a tour around the building, helping with any other things he may need to know and do’.

Charlie heard Bobby speaking again, and she couldn’t get what it was – just that he didn’t sound happy.

‘Believe me, the tour is indispensable. Besides, you mentioned looking for a living place relatively close – keyword being ‘relatively’ because I have no idea what ‘close’ means to someone who came all the way from Sioux Falls. My secretary will make the whole process easier on you’, a pause, a new round of grunting from Bobby, ‘Wise decision. Please, Miss Bradbury, come over. The beast is relatively tamed’.

Charlie was shocked.

In two hours, Bobby had told Crowley about his living arrangements, was growling and showing his discontentment freely and giving orders like he did to his closer friends.

In two hours, Crowley was feeling comfortable enough to tease Bobby like he had just managed to be with her after two years of working everyday in close quarters. 

‘Miss Bradbury?’

‘Going!’

When she entered the room, Bobby turned in the chair and received her with a smile that was pure gratitude.

Crowley had his forearms on his desk, hands joined, whole body leaning towards his new assistant.

When he looked at Charlie, his face had an expression of gratitude, too. 

His usually serious features were illuminated.

Not exactly a smile, yet, but something very close to that.

Charlie grinned.

She wondered if they realized how obvious it was that they had clicked.

Things were promising.


	3. Matchmaking

Crowley, Bobby and Charlie’s teamwork was so obviously smooth that in two weeks the whole company had already realized they were inseparable.

The three of them were, ironically, a match made in Heaven. 

However, they worked in Hell’s Bells; so, people obviously started speculating on what kind of force to be beckoned with they would turn out to be.

 

xxx

 

Bobby read people like open books: what he didn’t unveil talking to the employees, he found out through research. 

He was especially good with detecting nonsense and quickly attacking it. Most of times, it was enough to present data and glare sternly, making everyone involved understand they had been wasting precious time with conundrums whose solution should be obvious to anyone with a bit of sense. Those interventions were on the edge of counseling, added a brand new (and very needed) layer of humanity to the way the company traditionally treated their employees and often ended with the HR Main Assistant being thanked.

(Of course, sometimes it was necessary to figuratively slap down-to-earth wisdom in the most thick-headed ones’ faces. Bobby was perfect at that, too.)

That approach gave such quick and great results that it turned Bobby into the go-to guy for whatever situation was difficult enough for contacting HR but not difficult enough for involving Crowley. 

(People preferred not to involve Crowley, ever. No one felt comfortable under his relentless cold stare.)

The new Main Assistant usually just needed a phone call to put things back on track – being it rearranging workers, diminishing personal conflicts or just drawing a profile for hiring – and everybody was relieved to have things solved without facing the boss.

(Including the boss himself, who didn’t have much patience for certain stupid conflicts.)

 

xxx

 

Charlie was still the clever and efficient Secretary, but now she had a new bounce in her already ray-of-lightnish step: Bobby proved to be an awesome colleague, helpful and pro-active, besides being the great guy she already expected him to be in a day to day basis.

He had quickly figured out her position was not officially related to IT and the fact Crowley asked her a lot of things related to that was his way to keep her happy, once she obviously loved programming. Bobby already knew of her passion, from what he heard her telling when she visited, but he had no way to know how too damn good at it she really was until he started explaining to her the things that could be useful for his job and she simply kept them coming.

Charlie felt challenged, what excited her, and a part of their worktime was dedicated to her updating him on the gadgets and research tools she had been developing.

 

xxx

 

Crowley, on his part, still was the strict HR manager who kept everyone in line, who could bargain with all directors, who always knew what to say to get what he wanted.

He still was the one who placed people in the positions he believed were best for the business and was usually spot-on.

Bobby’s work was a lot more efficient than Meg’s, what gave Crowley more time to side-tasks he enjoyed, such as revising deals and contracts from other branches of the company. It was not really necessary, but everybody knew his talent for writing air-tight documents (one of the reasons he had shone so bright in Selling), and he was back to the field, even if in a small scale, more for personal satisfaction than anything else.

It got him some turned noses in the Board meetings. Hell’s Bells directors were all paranoid (some on the verge of psychosis), and obviously started wondering if that meant Crowley was working on some cunning plan to take someone’s place.

Unfortunately for them and their passion for drama and gossip, he didn’t really care about what they thought, and let them stew in their own juices. 

Some years ago he would have worried about being the subject of such suspicions. Maybe he would get paranoid himself.

Since Bobby had come over, all Crowley cared about was that he could keep seeing him and Charlie safe and sound.

They were the best to work with, with their seriousness and, at the same time, excitement at the job. Every task was faced as a challenge to make things less complicated and more successful-guaranteed, and Crowley loved their enthusiasm in such a tireless hunt for efficiency. 

He was generally awesome at the things he chose to do for the company, and was certain the three of them thought quite alike about what was needed in order to make Hell’s Bells great again, and how to get there.

Keeping Team Unicorn united and healthy was his priority, being them so good together.

 

xxx

 

Charlie had been friends with both of them before they had met each other; Crowley had always been by himself if he was not with her; Bobby was still getting to know the other colleagues (and was not very impressed); so, having meals together was the obvious choice to accommodate everyone when that aspect of their routine was discussed.

The boss and the secretary took the main assistant to the restaurant they were used to. It was close enough to the office that they didn’t need to drive or take a taxi, and had a variety of options in the menu, making everybody happy: Charlie, with her quite varied diet, sometimes healthy, sometimes greasy; Crowley, who was crazy for Italian food; and now Bobby, who was all for salads and Oriental dishes. 

They soon fell into a peaceful routine of nice meals made of good food and animated conversation, just the three of them.

And then, something interesting came to Charlie’s attention.

Of course, the guys loved her and enjoyed her presence. However, Bobby and Crowley had a lot in common in terms of personal interests, and would often end up engrossed in some very specific subjects. 

So, yes, they could (and would!) discuss Star Wars versus Star Trek with her, but then they would really loose themselves in some intricate debate on classic Literature…

(Really, how someone starts babbling on The Original Series and Doctor Who’s visions on humanity and ends up discussing Dante’s Hell?!) 

…or History… 

(Really, who knew so much about Alexandria, nowadays?!).

It was a pleasure watching them. Not just because they were obviously loving every moment – eyes shining and that stuff –, but because it made her feel like sitting in the same table with two scholars, and she would never give up any opportunity for learning stuff.

(She was into LARPing. Any info had its use.) 

She could have perfectly left things as they were. 

However, the growing relationship between the boys was too much for her inner fangirl, and she decided to act and see if she could help things a bit.

So, in an ordinary day, when the guys were exchanging opinions on the lore about Dracula… 

(Really, who knows so much about historic facts on vampires?!)

…Charlie suddenly announced she had to excuse herself.

At their confused faces (because they haven’t noticed how focused on each other they had become), she explained she had seen some colleagues at a nearby table and, if they wanted her to stay updated on the company’s grapevine, she had to seize the opportunity.

They swore their understanding and there she went.

Charlie watched them for the rest of the meal, while keeping light conversation with some guys from Marketing.

And, like she had hoped for, there was not a single moment of awkwardness.

On the contrary, in fact: Bobby smiled while speaking, excited at some story he was telling, while Crowley watched him with a relaxed posture, giving input now and then. 

Their eyes showed real interest – far beyond what civilized company required.

Charlie didn’t go back for the rest of the meal. They were totally comfortable with each other, and she wouldn’t intrude in that.

From them on, she started finding more and more excuses to not join them for every lunch. When they whined about it (and yes, what they did was quite whining), she assured them she loved their company but some schemes in the other branches were in motion. She stressed that they wouldn’t regret being apart from her for the time being when she brought info on the exciting things she had been finding out.

(It was not exactly a lie. There were some rumors about Selling. However, she didn’t have to deal with them in her lunchbreak. That was her choice.)

Bobby and Crowley reluctantly accepted her reasoning.

Charlie was touched that, even if they got along so well, they still would like to have her with them. It was good to feel wanted like that.

To her complete joy, her absence was felt but didn’t affect Bobby and Crowley’s lunchtime routine: they kept it effortlessly, as if the natural thing to do was stick with each other. 

 

Xxx

 

It was natural that the Head and the Main Assistant worked together much of the time.

Bobby and Crowley worked together all the time.

Meg had never wanted a desk in Crowley’s office. She preferred one in the anteroom, besides Charlie’s (anything to not face him all the time). When Bobby arrived, things stayed the same.

However, most of the day he would be in the office, perusing contracts and building profiles of employees or positions to be reassigned. When Charlie wanted to talk to any of them, she would simply enter the office and demand their attention – otherwise, they were a lost cause.

When they had been at it for hours, the guys moved to the comfortable couch in the office: the thing had never seen much use in years, but Bobby found out it helped his back to change positions.

 

xxx

 

It amused Crowley to no end when Bobby groaned his way to the couch, grunting about being an old man, but it was a matter of weeks for him to provide that his Main Assistant desk was moved to the office.

He even asked Charlie if she didn’t mind to be by herself in the anteroom, to what she beamed in negative, and he understood that she had just envisioned how to use the free space for her geek paraphernalia.

 

xxx

 

Crowley had granted both of them the right to not dress as strictly as himself. Besides plaid and too worn out jeans, Bobby and Charlie could wear whatever they wanted.

Thus, it made no sense trying to control what they did to their personal spaces at work. 

However, Bobby’s desk soon turned into the stuff of arguments.

The Main Assistant tended to accumulate things, creating piles of neatly classified material that went higher than they should for business appearances. Crowley, on the contrary, was an advocate of clean designs and tended to get rid of anything that was not strictly necessary, keeping his desk as empty as possible.

Charlie was called to mediate that conflict, once she represented the best of the worlds: she had a lot of geek paraphernalia in her own desk but never accumulated paperwork.

Initially, her intervention came in the form of supporting Crowley when he decided to catalogue every sheet of paper in Bobby’s desk. The Main Assistant permitted them to fuss in his things, watching from a distance and just growling now and then.

Charlie helped Crowley to file out all that was not currently in use and, when all was said and done, provided the boss a catalogue of file holders that the company offered.

Crowley didn’t think any of the models were enough, bought some himself (elegant mahogany things that must have cost a fortune but were really beautiful) and them to Bobby as a gift to ‘stimulate new organization habits’.

Bobby didn’t say much when he saw the file holders. He thanked Crowley curtly and went on with his life, not commenting on the things.

His attitude made Crowley worry that Bobby had got offended.

And, even if Charlie reassured him that Bobby would certainly have told him at his face if he didn’t like the present, she was a bit disappointed herself.

Crowley had picked those things carefully. He had put a lot of effort in choosing the most beautiful and elegant model he could find. The lack of a reaction could mean anything and all the commotion had excited her fangirl instincts. She really expected more.

 

xxx

 

Some days after the file holders incident, Crowley and Charlie came back from a meeting that happened while Bobby was dealing with something in another part of the building.

It meant they opened the door to an empty office.

Charlie would thank all deities for the sheer inspiration of checking her phone when they entered, so she saw Bobby’s message (‘Getting there in five. Don’t let him break anything’) and had it at hand to take a shot and register for eternity the surprise in Crowley’s face.

There was a small vase with a flowery cactus on his desk.

He stared at the plant for a long moment, frozen on the spot.

After taking the shot discretely, Charlie put the phone in her pocket and entered supporting mode, ‘Are you all right, boss?’, she stood by his side to look closer at the gift, ‘It’s a pretty thing’.

Crowley blinked, looked at her, at the cactus, at her again, and whispered, ‘He gave me flowers’.

‘Told you he was sweet’, Charlie smiled, ‘He must have thought giving something for your desk was a good payback for what you gave to him’.

He shook his head lightly, forehead frowning in confusion, ‘It’s not a bouquet’, he was staring at the cactus in bewilderment, ‘It’s something that lasts’, he gulped down, ‘It’s beautiful and it came to stay’.

He went silent, fussing nervously with his tie.

And that was the moment when Charlie really understood what was going on.

Crowley, who never smiled, who never let anyone get closer, had received a gift from a man who worked with him everyday, who had won him since the first meeting, who had proved over and over to be a complete professional and a wonderful human being.

It was not a gag gift; it was not an outrageous bouquet that would be there for some days, then dry and die. On the contrary: it was a low maintenance plant in an elegant vase – something meant to occupy a spot with its strength and beauty.

Something to bring color to Crowley’s day.

Something they could take care of together.

And, most of all, what had stricken him the most: it was something to last.

Their eyes met and Charlie saw the emotions in the man’s: the surprise, the disbelief, the doubt that he was really getting it right – that Bobby had accepted him to put some order in his life but was sending the message that it meant things were mutual and he was getting something back, too.

Something so powerful it clashed with his efforts of being as unemotional as possible.

Charlie knew that Crowley craved for what Bobby seemed to be offering. He was a human being; of course he wanted to believe there was a deep meaning to that gesture. 

But believing was permitting a crack in his very solid walls. 

She hesitated on what to say on the subject. She knew how much those walls had helped him to get over the things that had almost defeated him. She had been more than happy to watch Bobby making a difference in Crowley’s life, but suddenly she realized things were already deeper than her boss was prepared to deal with. 

Before she could say anything at all, the door opened and Bobby entered, ‘Hey, there’, he closed the door and walked to them, visibly anxious, ‘How was the meeting?’

Crowley turned to Bobby but didn’t speak, so Charlie answered for the both of them, ‘It was all right. Same stuff – people not seeing the obvious and needing the unicorns they so much despise to wake them up’.

Bobby nodded, his eyes going from one to the other, obviously worried that Crowley had not said a word.

Once the silence and the stare went on, he frowned, ‘What? Something happened?’ 

Charlie hurried to clarify, ‘We have been… discussing your gift’.

‘Ah’, he looked at Crowley, who hadn’t changed his stance, yet, ‘You didn’t like it?’

The boss opened his mouth but didn’t seem able to say something.

So, he ended up shaking his head lightly.

Charlie controlled herself to not facepalm.

The man had shaken his head in an attempt to clear it, but she was quite sure that was not the message that would be passed on to the uncertain gift-giver.

‘Damn. Sorry’, Bobby’s face fell, as expected, ‘Should have asked if it was ok to mess with your things’, he scratched his head, embarrassed, ‘I was looking for something to give you and found it. It’s fancy like you, it’s pretty…’, he cleared his throat and reddened a bit, ‘And it’s a cactus – so tough even some idjits like us can take care of it and keep it alive and well for years…’

While he explained himself, confirming every one of their suspicions, Charlie watched Crowley.

His eyes wandered by Bobby’s face as if he was seeing the man for the first time.

She could almost hear the gears of his mind working on the fact that man cared for him and, yes, wanted to convey the message that he wanted to stay.

That he thought of them as a kind of family.

Again, Charlie had to suppress a gesture, because she knew what Bobby’s take on family was, and suddenly it was clear to her how deep this thing had been running for him, too.

‘I’m sorry. Really’, he resumed speaking, ‘I’m not good with social boundaries. I may have crossed some limit here without realizing’, he looked into Crowley’s eyes, ‘It’s ok to say it when I’m stupid. Just wanted to do something nice’, he lowered his eyes, his shoulders fell and he gestured for the vase, ‘I’ll take it away’.

‘Don’t you dare’, Crowley stated. 

Bobby faced him, ‘What?’

Crowley gulped down, ‘It was not stupid’.

‘You liked it?’

The hope in Bobby’s eyes was touching.

‘I loved it’, Crowley spoke with the sweetest voice Charlie had ever heard, ‘Thank you, Robert’.

‘Damn’, Bobby grinned, relieved, his whole mood perking, ‘For a moment I thought you’d tell me to shove it’.

He chuckled, patted Crowley’s arm joyfully and turned to his own desk, ready to resume the working day, as if he hadn’t just done something that made the Grinch’s heart grew a million times bigger.

Charlie sighed in contentment.

Those idiots were going in the right way. 

Of course, like any dedicated fangirl, she didn’t think they were headed there quick enough, but she was well aware that not every ship has a smooth sailing.

Luckily, she was there to make sure they had all the help they needed.


	4. A scare

Well, Hell’s Bells had that name for a reason.

The people in charge were known for being purposely difficult and just outright enjoying seeing others squirm and suffer.

Crowley had exactly that in mind when he entered a blissfully (oh, the irony!) empty elevator on the way to a reunion with Azazel.

It was never a good thing when someone was called by the higher (lower?) powers, and Crowley had all the reasons to be nervous about it. He hoped the undisclosed subject was some stupidity that could be solved quickly.

(If that was the case, seeing Azazel was not that bad. Crowley found him not that horrible to look at, contrary to Alastair, who gave him the worst kind of shivers.) 

The elevator stopped in the next flor, and Meg Masters stepped in.

They haven’t seen each other in a while. Charlie reported that Meg was seen as efficient and cool by her colleagues in Selling, but Alastair had been wary and warming up to her very slowly.

So, whatever she had been carefully crafting, was taking its sweet time to happen.

Crowley hoped she was successful, no matter how long it took. He believed in her abilities.

(Besides, he would choose her over Alistair in any circumstances.)

They nodded at each other for the sake of greeting and stood side by side, facing the door.

When no one else entered in the next floors, she spoke, ‘Congratulations for the guy you put in my place’.

‘Congratulations for thriving in your new branch’.

She turned to him, hands on her hips, sporting her typical half-mocking smile, ‘Don’t need to get defensive and change the subject’.

‘I was not aware there was an agenda for this conversation’, he regarded her coldly.

‘Can’t a girl be curious about the one who replaced her in a man’s heart?’

He rolled his eyes, ‘If you’re bringing the subject expecting me to say you’ve been missed, give up. I don’t regret putting you where you are now’.

Her eyes shone.

She recognized the sincere compliment under the façade of despise.

Her tone got slightly softer, ‘I’d never expect an admittance of failure from you, even if the man was disappointing’, the smile grew wider, ‘And I’ve heard he is everything but disappointing’.

He squinted, ‘I don’t follow’.

‘He works like a beast. People say he is unstoppable, efficient and, still, a decent human being’, she smirked, ‘Exactly your type’.

Crowley looked away.

The door opened, ‘Send my greetings to the Unicorns’ Valley’.

The brunette exited and the doors closed again.

Crowley breathed deeply, hands clenching and unclenching on his sides.

He knew Robert had attracted a lot of attention. It made him feel proud of being the one who worked side by side with him.

It made him strangely territorial about the man, too, what was stupid, in his own opinion. A big company like Hell’s Bells had plenty of opportunity for going up. Someone as talented as his assistant could receive offers anytime, regardless of his age and the small amount of time in the position.

So, even if it was expected that Robert’s name came up when people met Crowley, it still made him uncomfortable and menaced. 

He was still recovering from the awkwardness Meg had caused when the elevator stopped again and a very tall and imposing redhead came in.

She grinned maliciously, obviously happy to have the opportunity to bother him, ‘Crowley!’, his name was pronounced with pleasure, ‘Long time no see!’

‘Hello, Abaddon’.

He felt an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach, and he knew it was not just for the familiar movement of the elevator going up. Abaddon had that power over him – she was always nice to him, even if both were aware she could crush him the moment she decided to do so.

However, it seemed that she never really wanted to. 

She had stayed away from the company for years. No one knew what she had been doing, just that one ordinary day she reappeared, occupied Lilith’s spot as Vice-President when the woman died from overdosing (no one would name themselves President while Lucifer was in jail, and not dead), and made sure everybody was accommodated in their respective Chairs.

Abaddon was the one in charge when Crowley asked to come back to the company. She was the one who recognized his talent and cleared the paths every time he deserved to go up in Selling, even if it meant defending him from the other members of the family, who had been offended by his previous departure.

(They knew very well why he had left. They knew very well they had no right to be offended. And, still, they added ‘weak’ and ‘traitor’ to the list of things they thought he deserved to be bullied about.) 

Abaddon once told him he was a ‘funny toy to play with’, and he considered that the closer to a sign of appreciation he would ever have from someone in such a high position in Hell’s Bells. So, he considered her not exactly an ally, but someone who took her family for what it was (a bunch of degenerates) and put the interests of the company above personal matters. 

The woman spoke again, voice smooth as silk, ‘Word is you have a gem working for you’.

He blinked slowly, gathering his nerves before answering, ‘I’m glad people seems to have my Main Assistant in such high regards’.

‘I’m not ‘people’, Crowley’, she chastised with no real heat.

‘Exactly’, he squinted at her, ‘I wonder what someone as important as you cares about some guy who works in the least glamourous branch of the company’.

‘I care because I worry about you’, she was back to fake sweetness, ‘When someone so good appears out of thin air, it gets me wondering…’, she approached enough to whisper in his ear, ‘What is his price?’

Crowley gave a step behind to get away and faced her, ‘Pardon?!’

The elevator stopped and the doors opened again.

Abaddon walked out, as elegant and confident as ever, throwing some polite words of goodbye over her shoulder, as if she hadn’t said anything of importance.

 

xxx

 

Crowley now was sure that the reunion would not be a simple affair.

First, because there were no coincidences in Hell’s Bells. Meg and Abaddon made sure to meet him in his way to see Azazel, and both pointed out the same thing.

Second, because Azazel secretary took him to the main meeting room (the darkened and sinister place that seemed more an interrogation room than any other thing) immediately.

Azazel never had received him immediately. He always made Crowley wait – sometimes for hours – just to mess with him.

The way through the corridors was made in silence, and Crowley could feel his own breathing accelerate when the secretary knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for an answer.

Azazel must be anxious to see him.

Those were terrible news.

Crowley stepped in and came to a halt.

As expected, Azazel was sitting in one of the central chairs, the weak light over the table barely illuminating him.

As not expected, a figure was occupying another chair at his right, slightly behind him.

Alastair.

The lines of his silhouette were barely distinguishable, and still Crowley could feel his eyes on him.

‘Have a seat, Crowley’, Azazel said when the door closed.

The man always had a smile on his face.

It was creepy.

Crowley walked towards the big table and sat across him, pointedly ignoring the other presence in the room.

‘I know how busy you are, so I’ll go right to the point’.

‘I appreciate that’.

‘We’ve been considering to transfer Robert Singer to Selling’.

There was complete silence.

When Crowley was able to reorganize his thoughts, he spoke in a panicked whisper, ‘What?’

The moment stretched a bit more, but then Azazel’s shoulders started moving.

Soon he was shaking with laughter.

‘You were right’, he said to Alistair, ‘He almost lost it!’

‘I told you he would’, Alastair spoke from the shadows, ‘We missed an opportunity’.

‘Sorry’, Azazel calmed down, ‘It was too entertaining. I couldn’t keep it down’.

Crowley felt the hair on his nape stand at their glee.

He decided to take matters in his hands, ‘Is there a point for this joke?’

‘There’s always a point’, Azazel answered, the cold smile plastered on his face, ‘This Singer guy has wormed his way into your heart too quickly’, he leaned his head, staring with calculating eyes that clashed with the smile, ‘If he is good with the uptight kinds of you, we considered he could be perfect for an inside job’, the smile turned into a strange contorted thing, ‘The kind of task you didn’t manage, years ago’. 

Crowley looked away.

They knew very well Lilith had not sent him to other company for espionage. 

And they knew it would be humiliating to him if he corrected them, because the real reason was something he fought to forget for years.

‘He won’t do it’, Crowley stated firmly, taking the discussion away from himself.

‘Why do you say that?’, Azazel squinted, ‘He has worked for one of our competitors, you know?’

‘Yes, he was a free-lancer for Castiel for a while’, Crowley answered, suppressing his joy at the surprised faces the two men made.

They didn’t expect him to know that detail about Robert’s life. They were trying to plant the seeds of doubt in him, but it didn’t work, for his Main Assistant had already told him about his past job in the other company during the interview.

The man was honest like that.

‘He wouldn’t do it for ethical reasons, but having worked for one of them, even if for a short term and not really being part of the company’s daily routines, is another reason why he wouldn’t do any dirty maneuver against Pearly Gates’.

‘We have great interest in knowing more about their inner workings, in this moment’, Azazel said, ‘Naomi is back in charge’.

‘You remember her, don’t you?’, Alastair drawled, ‘You had a Summer of love when you left us’, before Crowley could answer, he added, ‘You and the powerful women’, he counted on his long fingers, ‘Naomi, Lilith, Abaddon – I wonder how many others you offered yourself as a doormat in exchange for some pats on the head’, he lowered his hands and the voice came almost disembodied, ‘Why is that, Crowley? Did you miss so much some breast to suck?’

Crowley gasped.

There was no limits for how gross that man could be.

‘We were thinking of someone capable of getting us some info on them, given Naomi’s return’, Azazel resumed speaking as if Alastair had not said a word, ‘And Robert Singer’s name was mentioned’.

‘Wouldn’t it be fun…’, Alastair leaned forward slowly in his chair, finally putting his face in some light, in a movement that reminded Crowley of a snake, ‘… if this man was their spy in our business and we sent him there to spy on them?’, he opened his mouth in a smile that seemed toothless in the darkened room, ‘Wouldn’t that be interesting to watch?’

Crowley glared at them, ‘My secretary had the best references, and still I just hired him after a very long and through interview’, he ignored both men’s lascivious grins at his words, ‘I have been watching his work closely since then. I can guarantee you: he doesn’t have access to anything besides what is required for him to do his job, and he has never asked for anything that was remotely suspicious’.

‘He was quite close to your secretary before coming to work here’, Azazel pointed out, ‘Your secretary, who is friends with a friend of Castiel – a certain Dean Winchester’.

‘Who comes to be – surprise! – one of the two adoptive children of Robert Singer’, Alastair added.

‘Gentlemen’, Crowley got up, ‘If you don’t trust my secretary and my main assistant, you don’t trust me. If that is the case, it’s easier for everyone involved that you just fire me right now’.

‘Hey’, Alastair spoke in his sickening way, almost without moving his lips, ‘No need to have your guts in a knot’, his eyes hardened, ‘Sit down’.

Crowley clenched his fists, summoning some braveness, ‘If you’re going to keep insisting in the same topic, I warn you we are losing time’.

Alastair leaned forward as if he was ready to strike and repeated himself, ‘Sit down’. 

Crowley didn’t answer, nor moved.

He had decided to keep his ground.

‘I see you want to put on some fight, today’, Alastair retreated his body, going back to the shadows, ‘If you give up the pretense I’ll let you sit on my lap’, the silhouette moved, ‘It’s not like you haven’t done it before, and we know how much you enjoyed it’.

Crowley paled.

‘That’s all right, boys, no need for conflict’, Azazel shrugged off the situation, ‘I’ll accept your word on them, Crowley. However…’, he picked some papers from under the table and extended them to him with a smile, ‘Give this to Mister Singer. It’s the contract he gets if he accepts the task’.

‘I already said he-’

‘We don’t care what you said. Just do what you’re told to’, Alastair’s voice came from the dark, ‘No one will see the hard-on you get when you’re a good boy’.

‘Let him see the numbers’, Azazel prodded, ‘It’s not really an inside job’, he used a soft tone, ‘He just has to be there for a while and earn an obscene amount of money to do so’. The cold smile grew wider, ‘We never ask for anything besides what is written in our contracts’.

Alastair spoke again, ‘Will you do it for us, Ricky?’ 

Crowley’s nostrils flared.

He hated that man with all he had.

He extended a hand to take the papers, forcing himself to not tremble.

Azazel took the contract out of his reach in the last moment just for kicks, chuckled in amusement and finally permitted Crowley to get it, ‘You’re dismissed’.

 

xxx

 

‘Can you run that for me again?’ 

Bobby asked, scrunching his nose as if something on Crowley’s tale smelled bad. 

‘I’d appreciate that, too!’

Charlie’s attitude was not helping, either.

Crowley passed a hand over his eyes and breathed deeply.

This was more difficult than he had anticipated.

After that disturbing meeting he had to make an escape through the closer fire exit in order to hide from any prying eyes and deal with an anxiety attack. 

He had needed a considerable amount of time to regulate his breathing and push the nausea down, but he succeeded. When he got back to the main corridors to take the elevator back to his floor, no one who looked at him could say what he had just endured.

The moment he entered the anteroom of his office and Charlie looked at him, his mask of control almost fell: the reality of what he had to do registered and the shock of facing a friendly face made everything worst.

He barely managed to greet Charlie on his way to his office, curtly telling her to follow him.

He sat at his desk and, again with no fanfare, asked Robert to join Charlie and him for ‘an announcement’.

He completely understood their large eyes at his ill manners. It was completely out of character for him to act like that towards them.

However, his only chance of doing this was to keep his distance.

He could not let himself be weakened by the fact that the two people he was most fond in the whole world were staring at him with wide scared eyes.

Crowley explained Azazel and Alastair’s proposal for Bobby to be temporarily transferred to Pearly Gates succinctly, and then handed his Assistant the written deal.

And that was the point where Bobby and Charlie had demanded more explanations.

‘I was not aware that you both had turned deaf’, Crowley spoke with forced lack of patience, ‘I just gave you all the facts’.

‘You told us a bunch of nonsense’, Charlie was indignant, ‘A fairy tale about Azazel and Alastair sending Bobby for an exchange period in Pearly Gates’.

Crowley avoided her eyes, ‘What part of it is nonsense?’

‘We both know they never do anything without the most dangerous strings attached’.

‘There is a contract to be read and discussed’.

‘With some very strange numbers, by the way’, Bobby, who had been already reading through it, showed them to Charlie, ‘Just take a look’.

‘WOW’, she said, shocked at the large sum offered for the position, and looked at Crowley, again, ‘What are they up to?’

‘They probably want me to spy on the concurrence’, Bobby looked at Crowley, too, ‘Am I right?’

‘Probably’, Crowley answered, eyes still wandering by the room, ‘They mentioned how well designed for an inside job you are and then they denied considering it seriously, but we know better’, he tapped the desk with his fingertips, his nerves showing, ‘Take the contract with you, read it carefully…’

‘It’s a trap!’, Charlie was on the edge of her seat.

‘…and use it to negotiate with Pearly Gates’.

‘What?’, the secretary deflated in confusion.

Crowley kept his eyes on the nearby wall, ‘The offer is high. Naomi and Castiel are going to be impressed by the status Robert has gained here in such little time’, he settled his jaw, ‘It’s a golden opportunity to go somewhere else being paid a lot more’.

Charlie went back to her previous state of indignation, ‘You must be kidding!’

‘Castiel made me an offer, already’.

Bobby’s words made Crowley and Charlie stare at him.

‘Dean told him I was being hired here. He offered me a position in his business. He said he would pay double to ‘save’ me, because this place was not healthy’, he looked at Charlie, ‘He was not talking about you’.

‘I know’, she smiled fondly, ‘He is an angel’.

Crowley was still frowning, baffled at the revelation, ‘And you refused his offer?’

‘No, I have a twin and we’re working in the two places at the same time’, Bobby scoffed, ‘Of course I refused, idjit!’

Charlie pressed her lips to hide her laugh.

Crowley didn’t even register Bobby’s sass, ‘But why?’

‘Because here I had Charlie. Because I had already talked to you and… I liked it’, he made a gesture showing the document in his hand, ‘If these guys can’t force me to sign this thing, you can throw it back in their faces. I’m not going anywhere’.

Crowley sat back on his chair.

His eyes were set on Bobby’s, now.

After some moments he looked away again, and started speaking as if he was reciting the words, so emotionless they came out, ‘They can’t force you to do anything. However, if I were you I’d consider the possibility of transferring’. 

Charlie’s mouth was open impossibly wide, making it look like she was giving a silent yell.

‘We are an island of relative peace in this company. Pearly Gates has a better name in the market’, Crowley gulped down, his eyes wandering towards the ceiling, ‘A miracle worker like you deserves a place like that’.

Charlie didn’t react, this time.

She noticed Crowley’s fugitive eyes, the settled jaw, clenched hands, the whole tense posture.

He was making the effort to suppress any emotion about the possibility of losing Bobby.

He seemed to have decided that he had to convince Bobby it was ok if he chose to go away for what could be a better position, in terms of workplace and money.

Her heart hurt at the sight. 

They had had that same conversation some years ago, and Crowley had told her more or less the same things – that Hell’s Bells was not a good place, that she should seize an opportunity to leave when she had a good one – and she would never forget the immense relief in his whole body when she stated she was not interested in going away and would never leave him alone with the Alastairs and Meg Masters of the world.

When Crowley started trusting her with some info on his life, Charlie soon realized he had severe abandonment issues, and that those issues played a big role in the way he organized his routines and behaved around other people.

Now she wondered how difficult it must be for Crowley to tell Bobby he was free to go if he so wished.

Better saying: how difficult it must be to tell one of the only people you feel comfortable with that it is better for them to be far from you.

Crowley’s eyes had fixed themselves on some point close to the ceiling, at his right, and it suddenly hit her that he couldn’t even look at his own desk, because there it was the cactus that was a symbol of the strong bond they had developed in mere weeks.

The bond he was trying to break, right now, even if it was tearing him apart.

Charlie looked at Bobby.

He was watching Crowley.

Silent and immobile.

Like a hunter.

The tension was making her crazy.

Charlie could feel in the air that something important was going to happen, any moment. 

She trusted Bobby, but dealing with emotions was not easy to anyone. He had his own issues to deal with, too, like everybody else; even if she would bet all her chips on him to be the sensible one, it was not fair to expect him to get over such a tricky situation with no help.

The redhead decided to stay quiet. Of course, she could break the moment and point out that no one had asked her opinion but she wanted Bobby to stay, thank you very much; however, something told her she should wait and give those two some space before doing something drastic. 

Suddenly, Bobby moved.

He was just changing his position in the chair, straightening his back and crossing his arms over his chest, but it was enough to attract Crowley’s eyes.

Their boss stole a glance at the assistant, and quickly looked away again.

Charlie made the effort to not huff or roll her eyes.

‘Are you sending me off?’, Bobby finally asked, squinting at his boss, then turned to Charlie, ‘What does he take me for? A ditchable prom date?’

She grinned, relieved Bobby really had sense enough for the both of them, ‘Maybe he doesn’t understand how things work with you’, she crossed her arms on her chest, mimicking him, ‘I’m ready to watch you giving him a piece of your mind’.

Crowley now was looking from one to the other, wary.

Bobby glared at him, ‘I’ve been working here for months. If I’m such a great asset, why is so easy for you to send me away?’

‘I’m not sending you away’, Crowley got defensive, ‘Far from me doing it’.

‘So?’

‘I just guessed you would want to hear that you have the right to-’

‘I know my rights’, Bobby cut off, ‘I like it here. I like you. I have no reason to leave – unless you say that’s what you want’.

‘No!’, Crowley’s eyes were wide, ‘That’s not what I want’.

‘Then the subject is closed’.

Bobby spoke and uncrossed his arms, and it was like all the tension in the room had suddenly dissipated.

‘And next time I tell you I refused an offer from another company, you do me a favor and be clear about how much you want me to stay, so we don’t lose our time with bullshit like we just did’.

Bobby was kind of growling, Crowley had his eyes large, and Charlie had again to suppress a grin.

It took Crowley some moments to understand what was going on.

Bobby was staying.

Bobby wanted to stay.

Bobby like it there.

Bobby liked him.

When the realization hit him, his mouth curved into a smile.

It was a small, faltering and unsure smile, but it was there. 

Charlie permitted herself to grin.

She knew she had made a difference in her boss’ life with her support and good vibes, but there was a limit to what she could do. However, someone like Bobby – experienced but curious, frank but gentle, self-aware but confident, sensitive but down-to-earth and, specially, loyal to the end – could be the one to climb up those walls and set camp inside.

Still keeping that adorable grouchy attitude, Bobby got up from his chair, ‘Can we get back to real work, now?’

Charlie came to the rescue, answering for both her and Crowley when he didn’t react, ‘Yay!’

Secretary and Main Assistant started fussing around, occupying themselves, pretending they were not watching the Boss to see what he would do.

Crowley stayed still for a long moment, staring at the contract, that Bobby had left on his desk.

And then he picked it, ripped it to shreds with gusto and threw it into the trash can.

They stopped everything for a round of applause.

The smile was there, again, this time a lot more confident.


	5. Tell me more

‘And everybody is talking about this big lawyer firm that has info on Alastair and may be in contact with the Feds’, Charlie was saying, excited, ‘He is like a mad dog after the leak’.

‘Have some respect for the mad dogs’, Crowley said and raised his teacup, ‘To the possibilities’.

Charlie giggled and raised her coffee mug, ‘To them!’

Bobby shrugged and raised his mug of tea, ‘To whatever you think is good news’.

They drank and fell into a comfortable silence.

The three of them were sitting in front of the big window in Crowley’s office, sharing a moment of peace during one of their mid-afternoon breaks – that happened every time they had some moment to spare.

(Once the three of them were very efficient, it happened at least twice a week.)

The whole habit started when, in the way back from lunch when the chillier days had just begun, Bobby commented he used to enjoy having something hot to drink when he worked at home. 

Charlie immediately exulted at the possibility of a coffee-buddy.

Crowley counter-attacked stating how tea makes everything better.

Bobby got unexpectedly embarrassed, as if he didn’t want to pick one over the other; however, soon he explained he used to have his ‘whiskey’ days and his ‘warm milk’ days, with some space for beer in between, not being a tea or coffee type of guy, and that he was sorry to disappoint both of them.

Boss and secretary reassured him that it was all right, he said he was not against good tea and quality coffee and they always could count on him for company if they so wanted, and the subject seemed to be closed.

However, as often happened to the three of them, a subject was not closed until all the unicorns were satisfied.

So, after a couple of days there was a complete tea set in a corner of the office, with a good stock of teabags in different flavors and a pretty creamer to be used generously by someone who enjoyed milk.

Charlie made a very loud point on the unfairness of such an arrangement, saying she didn’t stand a chance to win when her concurrent was the boss, and especially a boss who was as refined as Crowley.

The guys loved her and tried to take her seriously. However, it was hard to keep a straight face when someone’s idea of protests had the form of colorful post-its randomly spread through the office and a t-shirt with the phrase ‘Coffee is life’.

She gave up messing with them shortly. The boys were so happy – fussing about the china and being nerds on the meaning of sharing beverages in different cultures – that she found more entertaining watching them than teasing. 

 

xxx

 

‘So’, Bobby resumed the conversation after a moment of enjoying each others’ silent presences, ‘This Alistair is kind of a villain?’

‘Totally’, Charlie said in her emphatic way, eyes large and head bobbing, ‘People are planning a big happy-hour celebration when the news of a process against him gets official’, she pursed her lips, ‘Well, they’re murmuring about it. No one wants to be responsible. The family members are not very close, but who knows what they’re going to do if they feel like smiting some poor saps to show support to a relative’.

Bobby nodded in understanding, ‘Sometimes justice is served, in this world’.

‘Lucifer and Alistair in prison would feel like a happy ending’, Charlie said, ‘I’ll bring every sordid detail to you, guys. I have a lot of friends inside Selling’.

‘That’s nice’, Bobby said gentlemanly, ‘You’re good with stories’.

Charlie grinned and rested a hand affectionately on Bobby’s forearm, ‘Not even close to your gift for concision, but I do my best’.

He got a bit embarrassed by the praising and looked down at his mug, a smile on his face.

Charlie found it adoring that someone so great had such difficulties to accept his own qualities.

Speaking of someone who downplayed himself often (even if he did a wonderful job of pretending to be always in control), she looked at Crowley, who had been silent for too long.

He was staring at Bobby.

Head leaned to the side, eyelashes a bit lowered.

It was not exactly a surprise to her how smitten he was but, still, it was a surprise to see it so openly.

‘What do you think, boss?’, she asked to bring him back to Earth, once she was certain he hadn’t realized how obvious he was about his affections and she was quite sure he wouldn’t be happy if he suddenly realized, ‘Is the world ready to get rid of some evil?’ 

‘I’ve been quite optimistic, lately’, he sighed, ‘If it happens, my faith in miracles will be definitively restored’.

He was still looking at Bobby, who had lifted his eyes enough to look back at Crowley.

Charlie’s eyes went large.

She wondered how much time it would take for them to realize there was no way out of the path they were already walking on.

 

xxx

 

One of the better things about working with Crowley was that he was very understanding. When he knew something was important to someone to the point that not having it would affect their levels of satisfaction and take a toll in their work performance, he made sure to amend the situation.

So, when Charlie explained to him what LARPing was and how important it was to her, he proposed she took days off previously to the events, as long as she was able to leave everything organized enough for no one to notice her absence and that she gave him an entertaining tale on her time as Queen when she got back.

(Meg had hated the whole ‘days off’ part and hated even more what she called mockingly Charlie’s Canterbury Tales, but at least both occasions took the redhead off her presence, and for that she was grateful.)

 

xxx

 

First time Charlie informed Crowley of a LARPing event after Bobby’s arrival, the immediate consequence required some negotiation.

She said she intended to stay after hours for two consecutive days to get some work done ahead, Bobby insisted he was staying with her because it made no sense that she was by herself and got things ‘half-assed’ when he could keep her company and complete his part in the tasks, she answered she could do a lot of high-quality ‘half-assed’ things without him and he could go home, Crowley came in to support Charlie against Bobby sacrificing his free time.

Bobby realized they were ganging up against him and stayed silent, waiting for them to tire.

When it happened, he just said ‘I’m staying, ijdits’, and no one could really resist to Robert Singer’s trademark pet name used like that. 

 

xxx

 

It took them a while, but when the day arrived, they managed to convince Crowley he didn’t have to stay, too.

(Charlie wondered when he had turned into such a mother hen…

No, she didn’t have to wonder. 

She knew.)

The boss had been gone for one hour when they finished the last of the urgent tasks.

As promised, Charlie texted him that information, and he answered immediately with a ‘Well done!’ and a ‘Go home now’.

Feeling very rebellious and kind of in a roll, they decided to stay a bit more and, before they knew it, they had accomplished enough to dispense Charlie to come to work in the next day at all, with Bobby’s presence being more than enough to keep things running smoothly.

The Main Assistant texted the boss about it, and the immediate answer this time was ‘Tell Your Highness she is free to go’.

 

xxx

 

Bobby and Charlie left the elevator still debating if they should text Crowley again, just to tease him about how productive they turned to be in his absence, when they were surprised by a commotion in the building’s lobby.

Some agents had been in Alastair’s office earlier, and taken with them documents, files and hard-drives.

People were fighting the excitement, clustered in groups that tried to speak low and respectfully, but didn’t quite manage.

Always the one with brains, even when taken by emotion, Charlie suggested everybody got out for a well-deserved hot coffee or whatever and the crowd got the message, waking up from the collective trance and leaving.

Eager to be updated, she not just followed the ones who really went to the closer coffee shop, but dragged Bobby with her.

He had been curious about this Alastair, after all. It was time to know what the heat was all about.

 

xxx

 

‘Now they have good reason to think I’m a spy’, Bobby grunted over his latte.

‘Not really’, Charlie consoled him, ‘I know for a fact that Meg had a crush on Castiel, some time ago. If she is the leak, it makes sense that things ended up in his hands’, she shrugged, ‘Pearly Gates may be the one to blame for giving it all to the Feds’.

‘Or the lawyer firm everybody keeps mentioning and that is, coincidently, the one where my youngest has worked for years’, he scoffed, ‘Yeah. It sounds really innocent’.

‘Dean is awesome, but Sam is a hero, too. If he is involved, we have a big chance to win’, Charlie was almost jumping in excitement, ‘Take this: we’ll have all details on the deal and one of our guys will be taking down one of the bosses of the game!’

Bobby smiled, ‘The boy is quite good’.

‘Alistair deserves whatever comes on him’, she turned serious, ‘He is the kind of person you can’t find one single redeeming quality, no matter how close you look – and believe me, you don’t want to get that close’.

‘It sounds harsh’, Bobby pondered, ‘Specially coming from you’.

Charlie just nodded solemnly and sipped her Long Black.

They had been sitting by themselves since most of their colleagues had left the coffee place. Even if the subject of Alastair’s crimes being possibly soon disclosed brought them together, Hell’s Bells employees were not really friends, and once they were somewhat satisfied by the gossip they disbanded.

Some stayed in other tables, but the majority of them went to their homes, leaving Bobby and Charlie with space to exchange some things that couldn’t be said in front of the crowd.

‘You think Crowley already knows?’, Bobby asked, suddenly. 

‘Maybe. I have this hunch that he passed info to Meg, or maybe even to Castiel. Not data, but where and what to look for’.

‘He dislikes the guy that much?’

‘He hates him’, Charlie was still very serious, ‘I never found out what happened, but Crowley left the company because of him, in the first time. And he gave up Selling the moment Alastair suggested he may be interested in it’. 

Bobby frowned, intrigued, but didn’t comment.

Both sipped their beverages.

‘Should we call him?’

Charlie smiled in her mug.

It seemed Bobby was not able to keep a conversation for long without bringing up their boss’ name.

‘I’ll send an audio when I get home. Don’t trust myself to make much sense now’, she indicated her strong coffee.

Bobby nodded and fell silent again.

The night had a chilling breeze and, even if the coffee shop was warm enough, he seemed to be recoiled under his coat and wool scarf.

She wondered if he was still worried about Sam’s possible role in this.

Or Castiel’s, once he was very close to Dean.

Or his, once the bosses could decide they had the right to be suspicious and come to bother him.

‘Shouldn’t we have invited him?’, he asked and immediately reddened, ‘I mean, this place doesn’t serve tea, but it’s nice. It’s cold outside and he may be comfortable at home, but he surely would come over for… You know’.

He realized he was babbling and stopped, trying to hide under the scarf.

‘Yeah, I know what you mean’.

Charlie couldn’t help herself but tease.

However, maybe it was time for some truths to be said.

She placed the mug on the table, ‘He would not come, Bobby’. 

‘Well, if we asked the right way…’

‘He never does’.

He was surprised, ‘People don’t like him?’

Charlie found endearing that Bobby would not think that Crowley could be unlikable to anyone, ‘Most people have nothing against him. Some thought he would try to climb up the ladder again some time, but he seems very content in HR’, she shrugged, ‘To our colleagues all that matters is that he is not a menace, and he is not since he has been the Unicorn King, living happily ever after with his Unicorn Knights’.

Bobby rolled his eyes but conceded her the point, ‘So, why he wouldn’t come for some after work joint?’

‘Because he is a gloomy guy’.

‘Gloomy?’, Bobby had the most confused face at the notion, ‘He is always teasing people and calling them pet names and being a gentleman’.

‘No, Bobby, not people’, the redhead said, ‘You’.

‘What?’

‘To be fair, he acts caring around me, too, but it’s mostly you’, she explained, ‘Everybody who has dealt with him would say he is a quiet and emotionless, generally closed-off guy’.

Bobby was indignant, ‘That’s not the Crowley I know’.

‘Exactly’, she grinned, ‘The Crowley you know is the Crowley who exists since you arrived. You can’t see the difference because you were not there before, like myself. I’ve been there for five years’, she opened her arms, ‘I know what I’m talking about’.

Bobby gulped down.

He was obviously eager to hit her with a million questions, but not sure he should do it.

Charlie smiled, ‘I know you, Bobby, and I know you won’t ask if I say I can’t or won’t tell’, she bit her lower lip, ‘But his changes are related to you and, well… I think it’s for the best if you know at least a bit of what you’ve got yourself into’.

‘You don’t have to tell me anything’, Bobby agreed, ‘But I don’t wanna make things worse for the guy’, he adjusted his scarf, ‘If there’s something I should know that could help… I’d appreciate you telling me’.

Charlie nodded and kept silent for some moments, choosing what to say.

Bobby understood and waited.

When she decided where to start, she spoke, ‘Our relationship was good since my first day in Hell’s Bells. Well, he had been working with Meg Masters, and the woman had a gift for finding things to criticize in everyone. When I entered his office for my interview she was there, and you could feel the cold blanket she threw over everything’.

‘Why Crowley kept someone like her?’

‘She was competent, and that was all that mattered to him. He was so focused on the job that, as long as she got things done, it was all right with him’.

‘That’s hard to picture in my mind’.

‘Do you think Crowley was always about having tea while watching the skyline through his windows? Do you think his office was a place for jokes, nice conversations and cactus flowers?’, Charlie shook her head, ‘It all started with you’.

Bobby blinked at her slightly harsher tone, ‘Weren’t you two close, before I arrived?’

‘As close as you could be with that Crowley’.

Bobby made a gesture meaning he was not following.

‘I managed to make him perk a bit, but he still had that lost puppy look when he thought no one was looking, and the dangerous silent dog one when he knew someone was. I could have stalked him and found why, but I didn’t. I decided to follow my gut, respect his privacy and make my best to brighten our days’.

Bobby waited in silence while she munched over what to say next.

‘One night I got back to the office to pick my phone. I had left it charging and completely forgot about it’, she frowned, fussing with her mug, ‘I opened the door, turned on the lights, and saw him there’.

The redhead licked her lips.

She had never told that story to anyone.

‘His eyes were puffy, his hair was a mess, his tie undone. He had a tumbler in his hand. He got up when he saw me and swayed a bit’.

‘He was drunk?’

‘Quite’.

Bobby had his eyes wide, ‘I never saw him drinking’.

‘He just does it when things are too much’. 

Bobby nodded, knowing very well how that worked.

‘He stayed there, trying to keep his dignity even with that face that denounced he had been crying for a long time…’, her eyes wandered at the memory, ‘I tried to I act natural – showed the phone, explained why I was there…’, Charlie shook her head, ‘Who knew how many times he had been crying alone in that dark office? I wanted to ask if he was ok, but he was pretending nothing had happened and asked if I needed something…’, she huffed, ‘Do you get how crazy it was? He had been so miserable he waited for everybody to go home and locked himself to cry and then he was asking if I needed something…’, she gulped down, ‘It was the saddest thing I had ever seen’.

Bobby slumped in the chair.

‘He sniffed to clear his nose, Bobby’, Charlie pressed her lips, ‘Like a child’.

Bobby just stared at her, his eyes telling he understood what she meant.

‘I decided to offer him a lift. I said something on getting him home for some rest, mentioned his agenda for the other day, joked that he had to be more considerate of me and not make me carry him around from a meeting to the other…’, they shared a smile, ‘And he agreed’.

‘That was nice of you’.

‘Couldn’t leave him like that’, she shrugged, ‘I think he appreciated the fact I didn’t ask any questions. After that he definitively warmed towards me, and… he started throwing hints’.

Bobby leaned his head, ‘Hints?’ 

‘Yeah. About his life. He would mention something – a town he had known as a child, a family surname – and I found out the rest. It was a silent understanding – he knew I would look for information, he knew I wouldn’t bring it up, and it turned out to be our secret’.

Bobby straightened his back, ‘It means you know why he was so…’, he made a gesture as if he was not finding the word.

‘Cold and reserved? Wary and miserable? Yeah. I know most of it’, Charlie sighed, ‘And I tell you, man: it’s some hardcore stuff – things that gave him plenty of reasons to avoid bonding with people’.

‘That’s why he chose Hell’s Bells, then’, Bobby mused, ‘Because there it’s safer not to get close to anyone’, he frowned painfully at the realization, ‘There, the expected is not get close’.

‘Now you understand why it took me years to make him relax around me, and how incredible it is what you have already managed in weeks’.

Bobby had that little disbelieving frown in his forehead.

‘I can’t give you the whole thing, Bobby. It would be like betraying him. But I need you to know this: he is attached to you like I haven’t seen him attach himself to anyone, ever – not even to me in our best moments’. 

He just looked at her, still unconvinced.

‘He would never put his guard down, and now his eyes shine when he looks at you. He has this adoring thing all over his face just because you exist in the same room as him’, she smiled, ‘He never showed any feelings, for good or bad – and then you happened’.

‘Damn you, girl’, Bobby reddened, ‘You speak as if-’

‘As if he was in love with you? Yeah. I think he may be’, she shrugged sadly, ‘But he’ll never make a move’.

‘Why not? I mean, I don’t know what I’d do, but… why not?’

‘He has issues, man. So many issues… It’s like he has been an unlucky magnet for his whole life – the people he trusted never treated him right’, she looked away, ‘I think he realized quite soon how he felt about you, and is fighting it with all he has’. 

‘Because it’s a gay thing?’

‘Oh, no. Definitively not. There’s a reason Meg Masters nicknamed us unicorns, and it was not because she wanted to point out we were nice’, she smirked, ‘We are not the least ashamed of what we are’. 

Bobby leaned his head in understanding.

‘He keeps to himself because he doesn’t think he deserves to…’, Charlie stopped speaking, hesitated for a moment, then made a gesture of pause with both her hands, ‘It’s not on me to tell it’.

Bobby nodded forlornly.

He fussed with his mug, eyes casted down.

When he spoke, it was with a timid voice, ‘You think I could…help him to get out of his shell?’

‘Bobby…’

Charlie huffed, looked around, tapped the table with her fingers, made faces.

She was struggling to not reveal too much, but her inner fangirl was quite fierce, insisting for her to be clearer.

‘Why do you think he forced himself to say you’re free to go away? He wants you to be happy, and he thinks happiness is something he can’t give to anyone. He thinks everybody is going to leave him sooner or later, so it’s better if you just go before he disappoints you and gives you a real reason to’.

She knew by the large eyes that Bobby was surprised at her edgy tone, but she couldn’t stop herself, now.

‘And, still, he needs you with him all the time, because you make him feel things he hasn’t felt in, I don’t know, a lifetime’, she leaned towards Bobby, ‘Have you noticed the dark circles under his eyes in some mornings? They used to happen because sometimes he had nightmares about… things from his past. Like flashbacks, you know? He relives traumatic events and can’t fall sleep for the rest of the night’, she lifted a hand to point a finger at him, ‘But in the last times he didn’t sleep well, it was not because of the nightmares. It was because he had been sitting by himself in his penthouse, nursing a drink and munching on how much time it would take for someone as great as you to leave for good!’

Now Bobby got the complete look of shock on his face.

Charlie facepalmed.

She kind of regretted having said so much.

Bobby gulped down and recovered a bit, ‘You don’t really know-’

‘He drunk called me twice since you started working with us’, she gave up keeping things inside, ‘First time when he gave you the file holders and you didn’t say a word, second time when you gave him the cactus’, she counted on her fingers, tone of voice not leaving any space for an argument, ‘Both times he wanted to thank me for bringing you into his life, went babbling on how wonderful you are and begged me to warn him if he did anything that could push you away’, at Bobby’s baffled expression, she scowled, ‘Yeah, that’s how bad he has fallen for you’, she sprawled her hands towards him, ‘Now you get it?!’

Bobby blinked some times, staring at her.

Then he breathed deeply, ‘I need some fresh air’.

They called an attendant, paid the bill and left, not exchanging a word until they reached the sidewalk.

They lived in the same neighborhood, some blocks from the company and, even if the night was really cold, they walked side by side, arm in arm.

Bobby broke the silence at her building’s entrance, ‘Thank you for telling me those things’, he said, eyes on hers, ‘I need to think, but I promise you I’ll try not to be an idjit about it’. 

Charlie grinned, ‘If someone can put some sense in this mess it’s you, Bobby Singer’.

 

xxx

 

Bobby’s mind was reeling while he walked to his building.

Of course, he had noticed the attention he received from his boss, and he didn’t mind it at all. Crowley was an interesting person – clever, cultured, sharp-minded, elegant. Bobby considered himself quite bisexual, and his boss surely was someone who he wouldn’t mind knowing better.

They had clicked mentally at the spot, and he had been convinced that it was a matter of time for them to be best friends. 

If they turned out to be more, well, it would be nice – he found Crowley very attractive. 

Bobby hadn’t been in a serious relationship since his wife died, but a quiet and collected guy like Crowley, with his gentle manners and the amount of interests they had in common, would make the perfect companion for a grumpy old man like him. 

Not knowing much about the man, he had decided to take things slow, throwing subtle hints. The fact they worked in the same place – being one of them higher in the hierarchy – could complicate things; the fact Crowley seemed interested but not openly flirting could mean he was not that attracted to Bobby or (and this was always something to consider) not amenable to get out of the closet at his workplace.

So, Bobby was always in alert of any sign that his advances had crossed some invisible line towards disrespect or inconvenience and was ready to back off.

He was a patient man. He could wait.

He would watch and act just when he felt solid ground under his feet, and not like some stupid who didn’t care to jeopardize a precious thing like their relationship. 

However, Charlie had just given him a wider view of things.

There was not any doubt that Crowley wanted him, too, anymore.

The problem was that Crowley was one of those unfortunate people who had never been properly loved or found someone who they could give their heart unreservedly. 

Bobby had had a nightmarish childhood with an abusive father and had lost his wife too quickly in a painful way; however, he had a mother who cared for him, fell in love with a woman who loved him back and wanted to marry him, was trusted with two awesome surrogate children.

He had a relatively good balance, in terms of relationships. He had felt loved and cherished; he had people he could rely on.

If he had got the story right, people had always betrayed or left Crowley. He had for years lived just for his work, in a place where he was surrounded by the worst and most miserable types.

Charlie arrived and gave him some relief.

He, Bobby, arrived.

And Crowley liked him so much he had been suffering in anticipation, convinced they were going to be apart, sooner or later.

And Crowley had been trying desperately to find ways to please him, like a drowning man who has lost hope of being saved but still insisted in extending his arms to grab something he didn’t really believe was there.

Damn, it was all kinds of messed up.

Bobby understood completely that feeling of wanting to believe and, still, keeping in mind that believing was useless and just exposed you to be hit again.

He didn’t know what Crowley went through in his life, and it didn’t matter. The man he knew deserved love and affection.

Bobby realized he had already arrived at his own door while lost in thoughts.

He entered his apartment and, as soon as the door was locked behind him, he picked his cell phone and called Crowley’s number.

It didn’t call twice, and the man’s alarmed voice reached his ears, ‘Robert? Something happened?’

He smiled at the worry and cleared his throat, ‘No, nothing… Just…’

Bobby didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.

He knew he looked like an idiot, standing in the middle of his living room, shuffling his feet, all nerves because he was speaking to a guy who had a huge crush on him and whom he had just realized he cared for deeply. 

He decided to gain some time, ‘Charlie said she would send you an audio. Did she?’

‘Oh, yes, she did. The girl loves being the carrier of good news’.

‘You may be the boss, but she is the unicorn master’.

‘That she is’.

Bobby could hear the smile in the other man’s voice.

He realized it made him smile, too.

It gave him the courage he needed, ‘I was thinking of you tonight, and, don’t know, I feel kind of guilty. Should have invited you to join us’.

Silence.

Bobby wondered if he had been too bold.

It was late, and Crowley may not be in his same mindset.

‘That’s all right, darling. I don’t socialize’.

The soft tone of voice and pet name spoke of tenderness and not offense, and Bobby pushed on, ‘Well, neither do I, and still there I was, mingling with younglings’.

Crowley made a sound that could be a chuckle, ‘Weren’t you having a good time?’

‘Kind of’, Bobby gulped down, breathed deeply and spoke firmly, ‘But next time you’re coming. I’m not going through that by myself again’.

Crowley scoffed, ‘Oh, the poor old man, lonely and sad because his boss was not with him long after working hours’.

‘You’ve got it’, Bobby spoke in all seriousness, ‘Glad to know you’re not deaf and dumb’.

Silence.

‘See you tomorrow, Crowley’.

Silence.

Bobby started pondering if he should tease the man again about his working ears.

Anything to get him to talk.

‘Yes, Robert. I’ll be there, in our usual place’.

Bobby grinned, ‘Good night’.

‘Good night, love’.

Now both fell silent.

And Bobby turned off the phone, heart slamming in his chest.


	6. On dreams and nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter and the next one we start getting glimpses of Crowley's past.  
> It's not pretty - it is, in fact, the way I chose to represent Hell in this AU -, and it's something necessary to get why he acts like he does.

Next day was Thursday.

With Charlie being gone to her LARPing, there was the possibility that Crowley and Bobby would be shy around each other – after all, previous night they had exchanged some bold words of affection in their own still hesitant way.

However, not even a single moment of awkwardness happened.

They were ridiculously giddy, in fact, all smiles and soft looks and small gestures of gentleness: a big but delicate hand resting on the small of Crowley’s back to unnecessarily guide him through the very familiar restaurant, a feathery daring hand adjusting a nonexistent crease in Bobby’s shirt.

The pre-existent layer of uncertainty regarding how they felt for each other had been taken away, finally setting them free to reach out.

The point now was not being careful because one didn’t know what the other had in mind; the point was being careful because they had to discover the right pace for both to feel comfortable.

Well, with such amount of eye contact and sharing space, one could say they had decided to give the other access to their very souls in order to find out the said pace. 

 

xxx

 

Thursday mid-afternoon break didn’t happen.

Crowley and Bobby spent their time after lunch working on the sofa, contracts stacked in piles that surrounded them, in a reorganization binge.

The boss’ tie was undone.

The assistant’s sleeves were rolled up.

It was the kind of mess that Crowley just had permitted himself to be dragged in because he trusted his partner completely to stay with him through it and until every little thing was back to its respective places.

And so it was, with Bobby proving one more time to be dependable and efficient.

(He even showed off his talents as tea-maker, preparing Crowley’s tea exactly the way he liked it, and making his boss stare at him with heart-eyes for the longest time.)

 

Xxx

 

Friday morning passed by without them really noticing, once some emergency calls from Marketing got them busy through most of it.

The outcome of the situation had been so successful that they decided to treat themselves with an extended lunchtime, leaving the office a bit earlier than usual and trying a restaurant that Bobby had been talking about for a while, so eager he had been to take Crowley there.

They got back a bit later than their usual time, too, having stopped at a park near to the company’s building for some sightseeing.

 

xxx

 

Now it was middle afternoon and Crowley was alone in the office.

His assistant had left the room to file some papers on Charlie’s desk, and it was taking him an unexpected amount of time to be back.

Crowley had already seized the opportunity to organize and clean his own desk, like he used to do on Friday afternoons (to finish the week with a clean slate), and now he was sitting, hands joined on his lap, while glaring at the small pile of contracts that had been slowly but steadily growing at one corner of Bobby’s desk.

(Charlie used to joke that sometimes Crowley acted as if he could make things disappear by the force of his will.)

He was distracted from the offending sight by his cellphone.

It was a text.

From his secretary.

‘Bobby is being stupid. Do something when he comes to talk to you. Your Highness’ orders’.

Crowley was still frowning in confusion when the door of the office opened and Bobby entered.

He was glaring at his own phone as if he wanted to set it on fire.

‘Problem, Robert?’

‘Yeah. Some electrical thing going on in my building. No power, tonight’, he scratched his beard absent-mindedly, ‘Asked Charlie about places to stay but she is not answering’, he made a face, ‘At least, she is not answering what I asked, just pretending we’re still chatting about the jest’.

(Charlie had been updating them both on her adventures, and the last messages involved a Medieval tourney.)

‘Our favorite redhead just sent me a text’, Crowley joined his hands on his desk, now, ‘Something about her being a queen, you being stupid and I having the obligation of acting out’, he peeked at his cellphone when its screen lightened again, ‘And now she added some intriguing emojis’.

Bobby frowned, ‘How am I being stupid? I need a place with hot water and a working heater to spend the night’.

‘Maybe she is suggesting that you should count on me when you see yourself homeless’.

‘Just thought she would know more about hotels, being a secretary and all’, Bobby shrugged and stood by the side of his boss’ desk.

Crowley turned his chair to face Bobby and realized that spot put his assistant a lot closer than if he stayed in front of the desk.

He felt his cheeks get warm at the sight.

Bobby was standing in full view, overthinking.

Crowley couldn’t think of anything more adorable than that grumpy attitude.

‘You recommend some place?’

‘Yes’, Crowley shrugged, ‘Mine’.

‘Uhm?’

He had been wrong – that surprised face was even more adorable.

‘I have plenty of space, including a well-furnished guest room. My heater and shower are in working form. It would not be a problem at all to have you’.

‘You say it, but you don’t mean it’, Bobby lowered his eyes in embarrass, ‘I know how it is when someone is used to live by himself and suddenly has to share’.

‘Unless you act like an angry bear while in more confined spaces I’m pretty sure we can survive sharing an apartment, Robert’.

‘Nah’, the man insisted, but his resolve was clearly faltering, ‘No need to bother you’.

‘So, that is what she meant by you being stupid’, Crowley spoke as if he was observing an interesting phenomenon, ‘Do you have any other reason to reject my offer besides the fact it sounds too easy?’

‘It’s not that’, Bobby scoffed, pursed his lips in thought, then asked in a softer tone, ‘Are you getting offended if I don’t accept?’ 

Crowley leaned his head, not understanding exactly how that question was related to what they had been discussing.

And then he realized Bobby wanted him to say his exact stance on the matter.

Because he cared, and probably really believed his presence could be an inconvenience to someone used to live alone.

Crowley adjusted himself in the chair and fussed with his tie.

Bobby’s eyes were on him, and it took all of his inner strength to order his thoughts around anything that was not how much he wanted to feel any part of that wonderful man with his lips.

He cleared his throat and said, very serious, ‘Not offended, darling. Deeply hurt, maybe. Utterly disappointed, for sure’.

Bobby rolled his eyes as if unamused by the shenanigans, but he had a smile on his face.

Crowley felt encouraged, ‘Why going up and down in this cold weather, Robert, when I’m offering you a roof and a cot to rest your tired bones?’

‘Right’, Bobby conceded, ‘But if we’re doing this, I need to leave now. Want to get home while it’s still day to fetch my sleeping gear’.

‘Why bother? You have some basic toiletries with you, and a lack of pajamas is the easier thing to fix’.

‘I’m larger than you’.

‘No need to brag, Sully. I was not suggesting you use my clothes. I meant we can buy you something’.

‘Just for tonight?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be able to wear it again’, Crowley smirked, ‘In your home or, if you behave, in our future sleepovers’.

Bobby made again that adorable surprised expression at the other man’s sudden boldness.

Crowley couldn’t take his eyes off of him.

‘You idjit’, the smile had turned into a grin, ‘I’ll let you take me to buy pajamas after work, then’.

 

xxx

 

‘This is the fancy place where you get your clothes?’, Bobby picked the sleeve of a shirt in the same suspicious way he would do to an animal he thought was pretending to be nice.

‘You think this is fancy?’, Crowley looked around, ‘I wonder what you’re going to say about my bed linen’.

Bobby reddened and just grunted something, inspecting the fabric in his hands more closely than before.

Crowley smiled fondly. 

Bobby was a scholar and a fearless hunter, and still he was perfectly capable of being shy and demure, acting tentative and hesitant before plunging in the unknown.

He couldn’t help himself but watch the man being unbearably sexy while focused on something, slightly wary and, still, craving to know more.

His ever-present self-doubt in what regarded how much people would find tolerable coming from him made him offer a last way out, ‘If you think this is too much we can go to other store, or even pick something in your apartment, as you suggested. I can respect your jeans and plaid life choices’.

‘No way. I want to be welcomed in your home, not tolerated’, it was Bobby’s turn to look around, ‘I’m ready. Hit me with your best’.

‘With pleasure’, the boss made a gesture for him to follow, ‘I know just the spot’.

‘I hope there are more options than some expensive silky thing’, Bobby warned, stepping on to walk besides the other man.

‘I’d never suggest you buy anything that could be off-limits to your income’, Crowley made an innocent face, ‘However, I enjoy the notion of giving you some…’ and he mimicked Bobby’s accent, ‘…expensive silky thing as a gift’.

There was a smile in Bobby’s voice when he spoke again, ‘I guess you’ll ask me to wear it for you’.

‘You see yourself as a male model, Robert?’

‘A middle-aged PJ’s model? I could be’, Bobby chuckled.

Crowley could control his own smile when he stopped in front of a service desk and signaled for an attendant.

While they waited, Bobby went serious and turned to Crowley, ‘Thanks, really’.

‘Anything for you’, his eyes shone, ‘But rest assured: it is a pleasure keeping you company’.

‘It’s always nice to be with you, too’, Bobby answered, ‘Hope I don’t disappoint’.

Crowley’s mouth was hanging open at that, and he got very serious, too, ‘You could never disappoint me’.

He spoke and looked away – as if he regretted saying too much.

‘Jezz. If Charlie were here we’d have someone to break the chick-flick moment’.

Crowley looked at him again, raising his brows, ‘Chick-flick?’

‘Dean – my oldest – calls it when we get too… you know… chummy around each other’.

‘You mean emotional? Like in teary-eyed and huggy?’

‘I’m not telling’, Bobby glared playfully, then smirked, ‘That’s the kind of thing you’ll have to find out by yourself’.

They stared at each other, twin smiles, now, at the unspoken promises.

The attendant arrived, and Crowley forced himself to break eye contact with Bobby, ‘Hello, darling. This gentleman here is in need of some supplies. We are very open to suggestions’.

 

xxx

 

Bobby ended up buying two very comfortable pajamas in cotton and accepted Crowley’s gift of a deep blue silken one – as long as his boss accepted a new pair of socks from him.

(Plaid, obviously.)

And he decided to buy some underwear, too, just to see Crowley stare and make that little fuss with his tie and coat that was a telltale sign that he was flustered. 

 

Xxx

 

They went from the store right to Crowley’s apartment.

Bobby didn’t hide his surprise at the place. 

The moment he stepped in he was gawking, what made his host worry, ‘What? Something wrong?’

‘No. On the contrary’, Bobby was walking around the living room, ‘It’s very comfy. I took you for a steel and black-and-white kind of guy’.

‘Nice to know I can surprise you’.

‘You sure can’, Bobby was perusing every detail, enjoying a lot that the decoration was made of elegant red wood and fluffy things.

The couch, the tapestry, the curtains – everything seemed ready to wrap itself around you, what was the best thing one could wish in such a cold weather.

‘You built a big nest, here’, Bobby commented, ‘It’s really nice’.

‘I make sure to surround myself with comfortable things’, Crowley spoke, lowly, ‘Now that I can have it’.

‘I get it’, Bobby was still exploring, caressing some superficies with his fingertips as if connecting to them, aware of what Crowley had implied and trying to decide if he should share something of his own past or wait for a clearer invitation, ‘You did great. The whole thing turned out to be inviti-Oh’. 

As Crowley had foreseen every time he imagined Bobby visiting, his guest’s eyes quickly found his bookcase.

‘I may have lost you’, Crowley commented at the mesmerized face at his large collection of classic books and movies, ‘What do you think I prepare something for us while you get acquainted with that?’

Bobby still stared dreamingly at the contents in front of him for some moments, then frowned and turned away from it, ‘What I think is that I need a shower before I help you with dinner. And then you’ll guide me through this’, he pointed at the shelves, ‘Specially the movies. I recognize titles, but most of them are the kind you’ve heard about but haven’t watched. This ends tonight’.

Crowley’s face was pure excitement, ‘You are truly a gift, Robert Singer!’

‘Uhum’, Bobby squinted, ‘You’re just giddy because I’m letting you educate me’.

‘Not exactly’, Crowley pressed his lips to not say that he would be giddy at any interest Bobby had towards his things, ‘Follow me. I’ll show you the guest room and the main bathroom’.

‘I’ll shower and wear my pajamas’.

‘As expected’.

‘And you’ll shower, too, and wear the new socks’.

‘As promised’. 

 

xxx

 

They ended up joining forces (and gathering Crowley’s surprisingly green leftovers) to prepare a Yakisoba, ate like they were used to – with easy conversation – and kept together for cleaning up.

Then they started checking together the lower shelves of the bookcase, with Crowley enthusiastically helping Bobby to pick the first movies they would watch.

 

Xxx

 

Even with Friday night ending quite late (three movies were watched in a row, with breaks for bathroom, preparing some hot chocolate and comments), both were up early on Saturday morning.

Bobby was an early bird – in fact, he didn’t sleep much – and Crowley walked into the kitchen rubbing at his eyes, only to find his guest fussing in his cabinets after something to eat for breakfast.

Crowley explained he usually bought something fresh from a bakery one block away, and Bobby immediately decided that he would throw his clothes from the previous day over his pajamas and they both would go to that magical place that seemed to have ‘real bread’.

They got home with éclairs and croissants, what made Crowley very impressed with Bobby’s disposition for changing his routine.

He definitely could live with that.

 

xxx

 

They spent the morning chatting around the apartment, with Bobby basically following Crowley around while he did a variety of tasks related to putting some order in a place that had not been prepared to receive a guest.

It included shelving some old tapes and long plays that had been scattered around, what served to show how much of a sucker for Motown and 70’s love songs the owner of the apartment was, and to make Bobby swear to educate him in the beauty of country love songs, in the near future.

 

Xxx

 

After lunch (they had take-out, this time) Bobby sat on the living room’s huge soft carpet, his back on the sofa, and proceeded to work on an old table lamp that Crowley was fond of but never had the time or the motivation to ask someone to fix.

The thing had called Bobby’s attention in a corner of the guest room, and he demanded the opportunity to do something about it.

Not one for mechanics or electrics or whatever similar to that, Crowley sat on the sofa behind Bobby, feet up, with a book.

The novel he was currently reading was entertaining, but the truth was that Crowley had a hard time focusing on the pages.

His eyes seemed to have their own will, and all they wanted was to watch Bobby.

The competent hands.

The large shoulders.

The gray hair – long enough to thread fingers, short enough to expose the neck.

The beard Crowley had already imagined rubbing on certain parts of his body.

If he was not already so sexy, the man had offered to fix something that was just left to accumulate dust.

And he felt comfortable enough to sit on the floor while he worked, his back to another person, showing how much he trusted him.

Crowley sighed.

‘Hold your horses’, Bobby said, misunderstanding the sound, ‘Almost done’.

He smiled, ‘Far from me hurrying you up’, he extended his leg enough for his plaid-sock covered foot rest on Bobby’s shoulder, ‘I’m using the time to think of ways of rewarding you’.

Crowley spoke and immediately heard a voice inside his head.

A voice that often intruded in moments like that, making his throat tighten.

 

''You enjoy being a whore, don’t you?''

 

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on what he had learned in therapy: that he shouldn’t be ashamed of the way his desire and affection manifested themselves, that the person who had said those things to him just intended to hurt and ridicule the way he expressed his love, that the same thing said in a completely different context could have been a beautiful and intimate statement.

Crowley felt the familiar nausea take him, and clenched his fists.

His eyes snapped open when he felt Bobby’s hand on his foot.

He held it with a smile on his face.

He leaned his head to rub the foot on his ear playfully, ‘You don’t own me anything, Princess. When you do whatever you want to do for me-’

Bobby’s phone rang, cutting him off.

He grunted something that sounded like ‘Balls!’, put Crowley’s foot back on his shoulder and picked the phone from a nearby table.

Crowley was still frozen, his mind trying to deal with the fact Robert had just said the perfect thing, and that he would probably have said more if he was not interrupted.

His heart was beating so quickly it made difficult to think.

So, he was surprised when Bobby threw the phone away and turned his head to him, ‘Well, you’ve heard it’.

Crowley blinked, ‘No, I… I zoned out. Sorry. What was it?’

Bobby rested a hand on the foot, ‘Things are back to normal in my building’.

‘Oh’.

He knew how that had sounded, but his disappointment was too overwhelming to not let it out. 

‘You think we can finish your whole book collection today?’

Crowley’s mind was blank for a second.

And then he realized what Bobby was doing and went along, ‘Not a chance’, he cleared his throat, ‘If we consider that we barely made a scratch in your unacceptable ignorance on old cinema, it would be a tragedy if you left today’.

‘My thoughts exactly’, Bobby answered with a smile and patted the foot, ‘Now stop pawing me for a moment while I test this thing. We have to start soon if we want to get something done until tomorrow’.

 

Xxx

 

Bobby woke up in the middle of the night.

His instincts never failed, and he closed his eyes to pay attention to what had roused him.

He heard soft steps on the corridor in front of the guest room door.

He waited to find out if Crowley was wandering aimlessly by the apartment, if he had been making a trail in front of his door or if he had just gone to the kitchen for a glass of water or anything harmless like that.

(Knowing the man, it was highly improbable that he had forgotten something before going to bed, or even that he had to leave his bedroom to get it. However, Bobby wanted to be sure that he was not overreacting.)

The patting sounds came from the general direction of the living room and stopped altogether.

So, Crowley had been wandering in the middle of the night, and now had settled out of his bedroom.

Well, Bobby needed to pee. He had the perfect excuse to go and find out if he was needed. 

 

Xxx

 

Bobby made sure to make a lot of noise while leaving the guest room. Last thing he wanted was to appear unexpectedly and frighten Crowley.

He suspected the man could have woken up from some of the nightmares Charlie had mentioned, and Bobby didn’t want to intrude and see more than Crowley decided to show. The fact he had decided not to ignore the situation was already risky enough.

He stopped at the end of the corridor, where Crowley could see him from the sofa if he was there.

He was.

Sitting on the sofa, with an enormous blanket covering him to the neck, eyes staring ahead.

Bobby had never seen Crowley so miserable.

When Charlie told him the man had issues and ‘hardcore stuff’ to deal with, he had tried to envision it, but deep inside he couldn’t believe such a powerful and clever creature could be so shaken by memories.

He had been wrong. 

Bobby walked slowly forward, until his presence was noticed.

Their eyes met.

Crowley pulled the blanket even tighter around himself and spoke, in a surprisingly rough and unsteady voice, ‘Is there any chance you’ll leave me alone with my ghosts?’

‘No’.

The man nodded, resigned.

‘I’ll be right back’.

Bobby paddled to the bathroom.

In record time he was back and pulling at Crowley’s blanket, demanding silently a spot under it.

He was obeyed, and now they were sitting side by side, but with some distance between them, once Crowley had his feet up.

Bobby put an arm over the back of the sofa to face the other man, ‘Could you use an ear or a distraction?’

Crowley blinked slowly.

It was like Bobby could see the sadness forcing him down, closing him inside himself.

He was suddenly taken by the irrational fear that he could lose him to that deeply ingrained despair. 

Finally, he spoke, ‘I don’t really know’.

The voice was almost a whisper, but it was there, and Bobby breathed in relief, ‘Then I’ll just stay here while you decide’, he shook his head, ‘Erase that. I’ll just stay here. For whatever you decide, if you decide to do something. If not – that’s all right, too’.

Crowley stared at him for some moments, as if having difficulties to understand what he had been told.

Then he nodded, getting impossibly smaller, wrapped in his blanket.

Bobby felt his eyes filling with tears and decided to speak while he still was able to, ‘For the sake of being completely honest with you: Charlie told me you’re always expecting people to leave. Well, I already said it, and I’m saying it again: I’m not going anywhere’.

The only light in the room came through the window, and still Bobby could see the glimmer of unshed tears in Crowley’s eyes.

‘Come on’, Bobby said, softly, ‘I have your back’.

He spoke and moved closer, using the arm on the back of the sofa as reference for Crowley to know he was approaching.

Bobby just stopped when he was able to pull the other man against him, their sides touching, his arm resting fully on Crowley’s shoulders.

He sniffed to clear his nose, ‘Damn you for making me feel like a boy in a first date, reaching out and hoping you don’t think I just want to paw you’.

That got a light chuckle from Crowley, and Bobby smiled.

They stayed in silence.

Their breathings calmed down and synchronized.

Bobby fell asleep.

 

xxx

 

When Crowley heard the soft snoring, he smiled fondly and maneuvered to have his back against the arm of the sofa and pulled Bobby against him.

It worked and, after some grumbling, he had the man on his stomach, settled between his legs, head on his chest.

Bobby’s weight on him felt good in an anchoring way.

It was just the slightest arousing, too, with the pressure of a big and large man just in the right spots and that delicious heat that came from him and was not just physical. 

Crowley sighed in contentment.

He felt protected and warmed.

He treaded his fingers through Bobby’s hair, enjoying the purr he let out and the hands grabbing at the sides of his pajama shirt.

It made him remember he had changed his pajamas before exiting his room, once he had woken up covered in sweat and with semen between his legs, as it always happened when he had one of his flashbacks.

Crowley suddenly had an irrational fear that Bobby would wake up, intrigued by the different ensemble, and demand an explanation.

How do you explain that your mind tricks you, now and then, to relive one of the most disgusting and confusing experiences of your life? 

Crowley didn’t understand that until today, after years of therapy.

He couldn’t expect anyone else to understand it. 

He wanted to close his eyes and fall asleep like that, with Bobby all over him, tempted to believe something good was finally coming to him.

But the voice in his head still repeated that he didn’t deserve it.

Newly formed tears menaced to fall, and Crowley let them, knowing it was a matter of time for the memories to take over.


	7. On nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hardcore stuff.

Crowley had left Great Britain after a series of very unfortunate events that he preferred to think, at the time, could be forgotten if he crossed the Atlantic and started a new existence in America.

He considered himself perfect for the world of the great corporations: he had a degree in Economy and experience with Finances, was a good-looking man in his thirties, refined, hardworking, clever, with no personal bonds and extremely in control of his emotions. 

He was pretty sure if he got included in the right circles he would end up catching someone’s eye and, as soon as they saw what he could do, offers of high positions would naturally come.

Fate wanted that the someone who noticed him was Lilith, the matriarch of Hell’s Bells.

They met at a party, he entertained her with careful selected stories from his time in London and she, quite inebriated, spilled out everything about her status in her family’s business – that she had not really been involved with the company, but when Lucifer went to jail, the remaining relatives evaded the responsibility of Presidency, and she took everything in her hands just time enough to accommodate everybody.

Nowadays she didn’t even show her face in the big building still in the city where everything started; she had delegated every function she could to the heads of the branches (whom herself had nominated), and was living the sweet life elsewhere.

Crowley knew from the start that Lilith was not the open door for a position that he had expected, but she was powerful and surprisingly generous, said she was going ‘back home’ for some time to see how business was going and made clear that, if he was interested, she would gladly put him under her wing.

He had no other offer at the moment. Besides, he had been in the United States for some months and, even if money was not a problem, he needed something to occupy his mind. Memories of his previous life kept assaulting him like they did before, the change in continent proving not to be enough, and that wouldn’t do.

 

xxx

 

Crowley remembered his time with Lilith as a period of intense learning and constant stress.

He had access to Hell’s Bells from the first task Lilith gave him, and he accomplished everything – from organizing deals and contracts by order of importance to writing down in civilized style the e-mails she had to send – in record time and with excellence.

He was eager to please (one of his defining character traits, even if his life history strongly proved it was not always to his benefit) and he was pretty sure to be granted a chance in the real stuff very soon.

Unfortunately, Lilith came to enjoy his company and trust him so much that, when he realized, he had been turned into her personal assistant.

It was not that Lilith was a horrible person, but she was demanding and considered his sacred obligation to be with her 24/7, what included being there to help with her toiletries in the morning, braiding her hair and pointing out to her tailor the adjustments to be done in her dresses.

It was not that Lilith was wild or social inept, but she enjoyed all kinds of addictions and abuses, slept just enough to be ready for the next orgy and didn’t have much of a moral compass. She was always nice to him, but he knew it was because she liked him; the moment it changed, for any reason, she could just give him the same careless treatment she did to anyone who bored her.

So, he had to tread carefully and be the perfect minion full-time to keep his position, and even so, there was always the possibility of things changing and he being thrown away.

He liked the challenge.

 

Xxx

 

Lilith was not close to her family, but her cousin Alastair was the one who provided her with most of her ‘social’ agenda while in the city, what made him a constant in her life – thus, in Crowley’s life.

Crowley never liked the man. It was purely physical disgust, in the beginning: Alastair’s tall and lean frame, the habit of speaking grating his teeth, his muscles seemingly tense as if he was prepared to attack – it all rubbed him the wrong way.

However, soon it was clear that Alastair was attracted to Crowley.

He made a show of it, in fact. 

The moment Lilith entered any room, Alastair would approach her, his eyes set on Crowley the whole time.

When she left them (and she always left, because the places they went to always had a lot of drugs at disposal and she didn’t have time to waste), Alastair invariably made his blunt moves: he started some nonsense conversation while getting closer and closer, until Crowley was cornered and the man was rubbing against his side like an animal in heat.

It was disgusting.

The fact Crowley was gay didn’t mean he was attracted to any man and, specially, it didn’t mean he would engage in any sexual activity with the kinds of Alastair.

However, he wanted to keep his current job. He was confident it would give him the position he envisioned himself deserving. 

So, he endured.

He didn’t really consider it more than a nuisance, in fact. 

The worst thing was when they would be in a crowded room, Alistair would press him against a wall and touch himself through his pants until he orgasmed, grunting in Crowley’s ear, but it didn’t happen often. Besides, the man didn’t touch his skin beyond the eventual quick flick of tongue in his lobe as a farewell.

He thought he could cope.

Time gave him perspective; however, then he convinced himself that he was an adult who knew exactly what he was doing – sacrificing a bit of his dignity and personal autonomy – in order to achieve bigger things, and those things were worth any pestering behaviors he had to cope with.

 

xxx

 

Lilith’s life close to Alistair proved to be too much.

The parties started happening so often that Crowley soon felt like he was just following Lilith to one orgy to the other, with Alistair’s presence all the way through.

On one side, business was the last thing in his mind, so much work dealing with Lilith’s personal needs it was; on the other, he had to keep aware and with his guard up to defend himself from the man who surrounded him with unwanted attention.

It meant he was not advancing towards the job he wanted and was getting quite socially isolated, once Alistair started sending away anyone who dared to exchange an interested look with the object of his obsession. 

Crowley didn’t really enjoy any of that. 

First of all, he liked his mind sharp and clear, thank you very much, and it was not possible to keep up with Lilith’s routine without using anything. So, even if he refused to take what he considered heavy drugs, he accepted some pills, sipped the drinks that were offered and shared some sniffing of the arousing little bottle that someone introduced him to some point along the way and gave that delicious sensation of arousal that made a bit easier to tolerate Alistair’s closeness.

 

xxx

 

The more Lilith lost contact with the company, the more she dragged Crowley with her – and that was the opposite of his original plans.

And, to add insult to injury, Alistair was very efficient in his cock-blocking strategies. Crowley hadn’t been able to even make out with anyone since the man had set eyes on him.

It was maddening to be in places with a lot of attractive people who were very amenable to get to know you better and find out you have a figurative collar around your neck with the name of someone you’re not really interested in it. 

Crowley starting considering the notion that he should leave before his career plans were destroyed and his personal life was, again, compromised.

 

xxx

 

And then the craziest week happened.

Crowley couldn’t keep tabs for most of it but, even if he had no idea what was going to happen, he had the distinct notion that he was very close to a point of no return.

Lilith had not stopped for a single moment, in the last days: she had been on a partying binge, and would remind him constantly to prepare everything for the weekend party in Azazel’s country mansion. 

Crowley had told her he would organize her things, as always, but he stated firmly that this time he was not going – that he needed to rest a bit and that he was not spending his whole weekend around her family.

She had found it funny (she loved his contempt for her relatives), but pleaded him to not leave her alone, and he ended up, again, doing what he was asked to: he helped her to choose which clothes to take, read for her the pile of contracts she should have in the weeks prior and indicated which ones she could sign, combed her hair while she put her firm in the chosen deals, gave instructions to her servants for the time she would be out of her own mansion and prepared his own things for the short trip. 

Last night before they left for Azazel’s house, Crowley managed to convince her to have some rest.

And Alistair made a visit.

The man stayed just enough to ask some inane questions about her logistics for the weekend. Crowley was certain he had just made an excuse to go there, and his suspicions were confirmed when Alastair insisted to be escorted out, saying he had something important to tell to Lilith’s ‘right arm’.

The whole path to the front door was made in silence.

When they reached the lobby, Crowley was pushed against a wall, demanding lips and tongue forced his mouth open and a hand grabbed his crotch.

It was harsh, but he didn’t push the man off him. He hasn’t been intimate with anyone for months, thanks to Alastair sabotaging every possibility he had to even flirt with someone in the parties where Lilith took him; Crowley had been kind of desperate and, at that point, a make-out session in a darkened corner didn’t seem like the worst idea.

Alistair let go suddenly, looked into his face with that mocking smirk and went away, leaving Crowley hard and confused on the meaning of those actions.

 

xxx

 

Maybe he should have taken that pretense of a visit and the forceful approach as a hint to run for the hills, but he didn’t.

He went with Lilith to the weekend party, as promised.

And next thing Crowley remembered, he was waking up in a strange room.

He sat on the bed, confused, trying to put his scrambled thoughts in order and remember where he was.

Oh, yes, Azazel’s country mansion, that he had offered for a huge party while he went off city for whatever.

Crowley remembered vaguely that they had arrived and were guided to the guest room prepared for her; that he had inspected the last details of Lilith’s wardrobe and helped her with her dress (even knowing she would end up soon without it, she made sure to start the party very well dressed, in something extraordinarily expensive); that he had gone to a room some doors over, reserved to him, where he left his own things; that he had squared his shoulders and gone back to Lilith, to accompany her to the main room.

After that, nothing.

He got up from the bed and went to the adjacent bathroom.

No personal belongings around – his or anyone else’s.

On the sink, a glass and a cartel of headache pills.

Finding it odd but reassuring, he took one to prevent any symptoms of what he supposed had been some heavy drinking or something similar, gulped it down, washed his face and rinsed his mouth.

He was feeling weird. Not knowing what had happened in the last hours (at least, he hoped he had blacked out for just some hours, and not days) was unsettling to someone who made sure to always be in control of his own actions.

He exited the room, decided to find out more.

The corridor was darkened, there was loud music ahead, and Crowley wondered again how much time he had been asleep.

Was it next night or he had just taken a nap and it was still the first night of the party?

A nap would explain why he felt sore in strange places. He may have fallen sleep uncomfortably and now was paying the price.

He opened a big door that seemed familiar and stepped in a huge room, filled with people.

He remembered being there before – whenever was before – and had a déjà vu of thinking of that as an alternate universe where everybody was having sex with everybody under the influence of some strong stuff and/or generously using some strong stuff.

It passed his mind, not for the first time, that one of those days someone would surely overdose.

And, not for the first time, he thought he should not insist on being a part of it.

No job or position were worth that.

He turned back and reached for the knob of the door, decided to leave for good.

‘Hey, Crowley, dear!’, Lilith appeared out of nowhere, a glass of something colorful in her hand, ‘Try this!’

He accepted it – he always did – and sipped at the highly alcoholic sugary contents.

The woman was laughing and speaking very loudly (he supposed she wanted to be heard over the music) about the ‘magic bottle’ they loved so much. She waved and someway a guy saw her gesture and approached, swaying so much one could wonder how he managed to not tip to one side.

She opened the small flask close to her nostrils, put her hand behind Crowley’s head to push him to feel it, too, and he did.

It smelt good, and it was that slightly arousing thing, and he liked it.

Lilith laughed even more, said something about him being ‘the wickest chorus boy’ and urged him to drink again.

And he did. 

Suddenly Lilith was gone, and he was left with the colorful drink in his hand. Somewhat relieved, Crowley gulped down the rest of it in one go and, seeing an abandoned glass of scotch on a nearby table, picked it and drank to take off the too sweet taste from his mouth.

Done with it, he put the now empty glass back on the table, looked around to the writhing bodies and made a face of disgust.

It was not a pretty sight. 

Even if he was feeling tipsy and aroused and some people were hot to look at, drugged sex was quite messy, and not in the fun way.

Crowley remembered he had intended to leave, before, and turned to the door again.

He reached for the knob, but hesitated. He may be taking a decision that changed everything.

When the certainty started getting shape in his mind and he was ready to turn the knob and walk away, a familiar voice spoke close to his ear, ‘Going somewhere, handsome?’

Crowley gulped down and turned to Alastair.

He prepared himself to be pressed against the door. He was an easy target, light headed and slightly horny, like that.

However, this time it was different.

Alistair approached, but made sure to keep some distance between them.

Crowley frowned, confused. 

‘Wanna get out of here?’

Well, that was new: no nonsense subjects or a pretense of conversation.

Crowley nodded.

‘I’ll go with you’.

‘Why?’

‘You know why’, Alastair got very close and, being a lot taller, leaned in to speak in his ear, still not touching him, ‘I want you to give me a chance’.

Crowley shivered at the breathing against his neck, ‘You never really asked’.

‘I’m the kind of man who doesn’t ask. I take what I want. But to you I am asking’, Alastair’s hand caressed lightly the side of his neck, ‘You’re special to me’, his nose grazed the side of Crowley’s face like a feather, making him shiver, ‘Can’t you tell?’

‘I don’t know’, he answered, eyes closed, ‘You make me confused’.

He felt knuckles teasing the front of his thighs, close but not on point, yet, ‘Let me hear your body talk’.

Crowley couldn’t help but chuckling at the sappy line.

‘See? I made you laugh. I’m not that bad’.

Alistair spoke so close to his neck this time that Crowley moaned.

The teasing was mollifying him.

‘Let me escort you to your room’, the lips were against his cheek, ‘I’ll treat you right. I’ll put you in the mood. I promise’.

Well, Crowley was already in the mood.

So, he nodded again.

Alastair took his hand and guided him through the crowd.

 

Xxx

 

Crowley remembered how strange it felt to be hand in hand with a guy he usually was so disgusted at.

They walked through some dark corridors until Alastair opened a door and Crowley recognized his things neatly folded in a corner, like he had left them when he arrived there.

It meant he had woken up in another room.

That was a mystery he should worry about, but he heard the door being closed and locked, the noise of a zipper being opened and suddenly Alastair was hugging him from behind.

The man was assaulting his nape and neck with his lips, and Crowley leaned his head to give him more access.

As expected, it didn’t quite work out. 

There was no real chemistry between them – at least not on his side. He couldn’t help but hearing every ragged breath, feeling the dry lips and the almost too forceful arms around him.

However, there was a very interesting hardness against his lower back, he had been eager for some sex, and he disentangled himself to start taking off his clothes.

He didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to see Alastair’s hungry face. He just took it all off the quickest he could and walked to the bed, lying face down and putting a pillow under his middle to elevate his ass invitingly.

Crowley felt the mattress moving with the weight of the man and closed his eyes.

He was slightly ashamed of offering himself like that, but everybody had a limit to their dignity in what regarded frustration, and he supposed he had found his: he had been alone like a dog since forever, he had been pleasuring himself for months, his career was going anywhere.

He needed some release.

Alistair knelt between his thighs and started prodding at his entrance with surprisingly well-coated-in-lube fingers.

Crowley relaxed. He had expected Alastair to be harsh and hurried – and to be sincere, he wouldn’t mind if they went for a quickie –, but it felt good.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why he hadn’t permitted that man to do it to him before.

Oh, well, there was the thing about Alastair being a white collar criminal and a gross human being in general, but those seemed very far away notions, now, when he was doing magic while preparing his hole.

Crowley enjoyed it for some time, but it turned to be too long for his taste, so he moved his hips and asked for more.

‘More fingers?’, the voice behind him sounded strained, ‘You already have three’.

‘Not fingers’, Crowley grunted, decided to ignore the little revulsion at the grating voice, ‘Please’.

He heard a kind of whimper – as if he had said some key-word –, Alistair took off his fingers, moved on the mattress, grabbed his hips and started entering him.

In an excruciatingly slow pace.

Crowley didn’t say a word. He was a gentleman, after all. Even to the kinds of Alastair, you don’t say ‘let’s just get it over’. The man had been pining for him for some time. He would not be cruel.

When Alistair was all in, he parted Crowley’s legs even more with his thighs, taking off a good part of his leverage on the bed, and passed an arm under his neck.

Crowley realized he was locked in that position, and some panic rose in the back of his mind.

However, Alistair started moving his hips, and it was wonderful, and he relaxed again.

It was kind of nice.

If he was able to imagine someone else, he could even come like this, not even needing to touch himself.

As long as he detached his mind from the knowledge that he was in bed with Alastair, it was rather enjoyable-

‘I can give you so much more than Lilith’, the unnerving voice spoke, ‘You’re wasting time with that old hag. I’m the one to get you to the right places’.

Crowley frowned.

He didn’t want to talk about work. Not now.

He didn’t trade sex for power. Not ever.

And, specially, he didn’t want to hear that voice. He wanted to be able to fantasize with anyone else.

‘I want to take you to Hell’s Bells. I want you in the meeting room …’, he grunted, his thrusts getting slightly faster, ‘The most powerful men in the company reunited, and you there, among us…’

Crowley forced his eyes shut, his body tensing.

He wanted to ignore the inconvenient talk, but he had mixed feelings.

‘Can you see yourself there? Because I can’, Alistair chuckled, ‘You’ll be on your fours, sucking my cock’. 

Crowley’s eyes snapped open.

‘The others will be in line to fuck you, because you’ll be mine and I’ll offer this pretty ass of yours as courtesy to everyone who wants a piece of it’.

Now he didn’t know what to feel. That was some dirty talk he hadn’t experienced before.

‘You’ll stop sucking to beg for my cock in your ass. Like a good slave you just enjoy it when your master fucks you. And I’ll choke you until you learn that you must take what you’re given’, he moaned, a hand stroking Crowley’s side, ‘But I’ll oblige, in the end; you’ll be moving like a whore and we can’t have it – we need this stable desk to sign our deals on’.

Crowley tried to move his arms and legs to support them on the bed and feel more in control of the situation, but the grip at his neck tightened.

‘None of that’, Alistair grunted, then changed his voice for something softer, ‘Stay put and enjoy it. I’m not hurting my personal whore’.

The thrusting stopped suddenly, and Crowley groaned.

Alastair let go of his neck just a bit, in order to scratch his back with his nails, just enough to leave a mark.

‘See?’, he tightened the hold, ‘Not really hurting. I’m the best master you could have, being such an easy bitch as you are’.

Crowley opened his mouth to protest, but the hips rolled in wide circles, stretching his hole, and he moaned in pleasure.

‘You like to be used, I like to use. We’re the perfect match’, a fistful of his hair was grabbed, ‘Say you want to be my slave’.

Crowley pressed his lips.

He was into sex games, obviously, but not like this. Not with someone who had such messed up ideas – who mixed business and pleasure, who fantasized of sharing him with other men without asking his thoughts on the subject and, especially, who seemed confident that they would have complete control of his body and life.

He was not making promises to someone like Alastair.

‘Say it’.

The torment would not last much, now. His penis was pressed against the pillow, the cock moving inside him just right. If he managed to move just a bit, a few more thrusts would take him there and, with a mind free of this maddening lust, he would be able to get the man off of him.

To his chagrin, all movement stopped again, and Alastair laid completely on top of him, his larger frame forcing him down against the bed. 

‘I know you like obeying. Why do you deny your inner self like this?’, teeth grazed his ear the way that made him squirm, ‘Where is my good boy, uh?’

Crowley didn’t speak.

He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to keep some control.

He could feel his aching erection.

He could feel his ass pulsing eagerly around the cock inside him.

He hated himself for the despair.

To his surprise, hands caressed his sides and lips nipped at his neck, while Alastair’s hips moved just enough to keep things going.

And he resumed talking.

He said he was sorry for all the times he had forced himself into Crowley. He asked for forgiveness. He said he just couldn’t resist how hot Crowley was. He promised to be better. He promised to be the best man Crowley would ever meet. 

‘You know I love you, don’t you?’, he went as deeply as he could, ‘You know you have me wrapped around your finger’, he grinded, ‘Come on, sweetheart, you know you’ve found your man’, lips sucked enough to cause a hickey, the sharp pain making his toe’s curl, ‘Who wants to be my pretty slave?’

Crowley huffed.

He was on the verge of coming. He needed it, and the softer pacing was good, but far from enough. 

Those words had felt surreal coming from Alistair. They sounded fake, taking the edge off his lust, what gave him a mind clear enough for a decision.

Empty words were not new under the sun. If the man on top of him wanted to hear it so much, well, Crowley would give it to him and be done with it.

‘I want to’.

‘You want what, whore?’

‘I want to be your slave’.

‘Good. Damned. Boy’, Alistair said, punctuating each word with a thrust.

Crowley whined.

He loved that.

He just hoped this time the man didn’t stop before their completion, or he would go crazy.

‘Some sweet talking is all it takes with you’, Alistair started talking again, thrusting forcefully, deep and hard, ‘Always so eager to suck cock and offer your ass’, the grip around his neck tightened a bit more, the free hand grabbed his hair again, ‘You’ll have your position in Hell’s Bells. You’ll be the company official sex toy’, he was almost breathless, thrusting quickly, but didn’t stop talking, ‘I’ll even take you to Lucifer. He likes a bitch as much as I-’ 

‘Shut up’.

‘Don’t give me orders’, the hand in the hair pulled harder, the thrusts never stopping, ‘Respect your master’.

‘Please’, Crowley begged, the orgasm building inside him, ‘Keep fucking me. But be quiet’.

‘Why would I be quiet if you like my dirty mouth?’

‘I don’t’.

‘That’s not what you said last night’.

Last night?

Oh.

Suddenly it all made sense.

Alistair knew what to do and say to get to him because Crowley had probably told him everything.

He must have been drugged or drunk or both, and he had opened up.

Crowley closed his eyes in regret and flashes came to him.

On his knees, servicing Alistair. 

Agreeing to use a collar. 

Ridding Alistair while he slapped his face and his balls and laughed at him. 

Kneeling on the bed and moving his hips enticingly, offering himself. 

In exchange, all he had asked was to be called pet names and to be told he was loved – no orgasm included.

Crowley opened his eyes again, trying to suppress those memories.

After so many years of keeping to himself, he had told some deeply intimate desires and fantasies to the first scoundrel to find out what he wanted to hear.

As if feeling the inner turmoil of the man under him, Alastair chuckled, grunted in pleasure and came.

Crowley didn’t have a reaction. He was still aroused, but he had just found out he had been deceived, and he wanted to come but he wanted to throw that man off him and beat him to a bloody pulp for being such a liar, too.

Alastair kept inside, making those maddening circles with his hips, and his arm tightened a bit more on Crowley’s neck.

It was starting to suffocate him, but he didn’t put up a fight.

Maybe he deserved what he was getting.

‘Trust me’, the man whispered in his ear, ‘I’m doing this for you’, he trusted a few more times, ‘You must learn you place’, the arm went tighter, ‘You don’t deserve more than this’.

Crowley felt like he was going to pass out – from the pressure on his throat and the hit on his soul from being under a man who had just confirmed his own thoughts on how worthless he was – when everything happened quickly and at once: Alastair slipped off, released him, grabbed him by the arm and turned him around roughly.

He was still trying to regulate his breathing, his arms flailing to grab something because the small of his back ended up on the pillow, sprawling his body in a disorienting way, and saw through a blur that Alistair was between his legs, holding him down, and then he felt fingers entering him and hitting the perfect spots.

Crowley tried to move away, but the free hand grabbed his cock to pump it and all fight left him.

He just wanted to come.

At that point, he didn’t have any will or dignity left.

Alistair moved his hands with mechanic precision.

It was harsh and unrelenting, spoke of control and filled the room with embarrassing wet noises, but Crowley was so on edge that in mere moments he was wailing and spilling out.

Alistair let go and started dressing calmly.

He watched Crowley pant and shiver on the bed, and from time to time he went closer to slap his softening cock playfully, just to make him squirm and be aware of how vulnerable he was.

Crowley’s mouth was dry, his breathing shallow in something that was from sex but from fear, felt ashamed and humiliated, wanted to cover himself but didn’t have the strength to even put his body in a less contorted position, much less look for a blanket.

When Alistair was ready to leave, he leaned enough to pinch one of Crowley’s nipples, ‘You enjoy being a whore, don’t you?’, he chuckled at getting just a wince as a reaction, and cupped his balls, ‘I know you do. Now rest. I’ll come over to fuck you again, later’, he patted a cheek patronizingly, ‘See what a good master I am? And this is just the beginning. You can’t even imagine what I’m capable of doing to someone as pretty as you’. 

 

Xxx

 

Crowley gulped down the revulsion at the memories.

Even after all these years, he still felt guilty.

The therapy sessions helped to deal with the concept of abuse, making him understand he hadn’t really consented to sex with Alistair in the way it happened – that he had been manipulated and coerced into something that he guessed was kind of fun, but had been basically wrong in its motivations and unhealthy in its proceedings.

The therapist had pointed out the man didn’t use a condom; that he had lied and used fake endearments and promises to lure him; that he had cock-blocked him for months before coming over for the final strike with sweet words and nice gestures, getting into his pants through the complete abusive-relationship package.

And the professional had brought on insistently that Crowley didn’t stay there waiting for his abuser to be back. He somehow gathered his willpower to wash himself, put some clothes on, pick up his things and leave. 

That had made a difference.

More than that, he had spoken to Lilith as soon as she was sober enough, informing her he was quitting and making clear he was doing it because of her cousin’s improper behavior.

Lilith had found his attitude so brand new that she finally offered him a position in Hell’s Bells: the one that made possible for him to get away and stay in Pearly Gates time enough to lick his wounds and work on the trauma.

Taking a stance against what happened had made a huge difference, after all.

When Lilith died (of an overdose, as he had foreseen), he went to her funeral as a sign of respect, and there he was approached by Abaddon, who informed him she knew of his abilities, asked him which branch he wanted to work in and made sure he understood that was not an invitation to return, but an imposition.

Crowley went back to Hell’s Bells and, more mature and self-confident, made his meteoric trajectory in Selling, just stepping out when Alistair suddenly decided to come out from the shadows to tease him about them working together.

His decision to go to Human Resources had been, ironically, a bless. 

There he had found freedom to put his ideas into practice, what gave him purpose. 

There he had met Charlie, who restored his faith in humanity. 

And through Charlie he had met Robert, the man currently peacefully snoring on top of him.


	8. On dreams

Crowley breathed deeply.

He needed to think.

He focused on the situation at hand: Saturday night, his apartment, Robert Singer.

They had spent a lovely day together and, after a surprising turn of events, now Crowley was lying on his sofa with the man sprawled on top of him, sleeping peacefully, his face pressed against his chest.

Well, the specific turn of events (flashback, sofa, company) was surprising, but not Robert being close and personal and delicious. 

He had been surrounding Crowley like a human blanket for some time. The difference now was that his offer of presence and support, tonight, implied things between them would not stay in a metaphorical – or platonic – status for much time.

Robert stirred very interesting sensations in Crowley since they met: a warmth that took him just from watching the man’s gentleness and sheer delicacy of feelings; a pull that made him want to reach out for that tender soul and, if possible, keep it close to him forever. 

He noticed very early in their routine that it was turning into physical desire, and he kind of wondered if sexual intimacy should be allowed to happen; however, at the same time he already knew that the way he had been feeling made sexual intimacy the natural path.

Crowley was bursting with joy and completely terrified.

He had never quite believed such a thing could happen to him. When he was younger he had some infatuations, but they all came to sad and/or humiliating ends. After a number of harsh disappointments, he gave up finding a romantic partner for good.

It didn’t seem to be something to worry about. He was all right the way his life was going. He had a job he enjoyed, one good friend in his secretary and an apartment with everything he needed to be comfortable.

He wouldn’t have considered changing any of that if Robert had not appeared out of nowhere and blasted him with those feelings.

Argh.

Feelings.

It had felt like being attacked by a huge beast, thrown on the ground before he had any chance of defending himself, only that the beast just wanted to cuddle and shower him with affection, and he had seen it coming from a distance but was so enchanted he didn’t make a move to escape. 

After a lifetime of rejection and imposed behavior standards that he never managed to reach, someone seemed really invested in him with no reserves, and it was addicting. 

Crowley had lowered his head to everyone he liked, when he was a child and a teenager, in hopes to get some affection. He had learned to obey and control his emotions and surges when he was a young adult, in hopes to have a somewhat peaceful life. 

When everything went wrong despite his best efforts, he came to the United States with the sole purpose of working hard and prove he deserved to be respected.

He knew it was not exactly a compensation after losing so much, but he was resigned. 

Unfortunately, even the relief from being emotionally isolated and touch-starved that came with occasional one night stands came to a halt when Alistair tricked him: first, because the man made impossible for anyone to get close to him; then, because he ruined sex for Crowley for a good while with the things he said and did to him in that weekend.

He was aware that it all could be just lack of luck. Maybe real affection through blood was possible, even if it had not happened to him; maybe a marriage could include real feelings and be a healthy companionship, even if it hadn’t gone like that for him; maybe Alastair was the exception and the world was not filled with people who enjoyed breaking souls and manipulating feelings. 

However, knowing that didn’t mean the flashbacks of every stance he had been abandoned or betrayed would disappear. No, they kept coming around again, reminding him that things never turned out well for him. 

Evil manipulation or not, lack of luck or not, the fact was that something horrible always happened to add to his already long list of misery and disappointment. 

Crowley rubbed his eyes.

Deep inside he knew the safe thing to do was fight off these feelings and rebuild his walls.

He was so tired of being hurt.

But he was so tired of being afraid, too. 

Bobby must have felt his agitation, for he moved.

His fingers curled on the sides of Crowley’s pajama shirt.

Crowley lowered his arms, settling them on the other man’s back.

Bobby relaxed again, sighing, and went back to his deep sleep.

Crowley wondered, one more time, why Robert had decided he deserved his attention.

He didn’t deserve it.

His attempts at affection were messed up and confusing. He had already tried to send this same man away and was rightfully scolded for that, just to mention one example. 

It would probably be better for everyone involved if nothing happened between them.

And, still, here he was, clutching at that improbable hope like a child starved for attention clutched a teddy bear.

The waves of sadness and shame came crashing on him again.

Yes, he still was just a boy who wanted to feel loved and accepted anything that resembled it even slightly.

Even after years of therapy – and years after stopping therapy –, he was not a mentally healthy person. 

Yes, he should stop this thing with Robert before it was too late.

Nowadays he was able to have sex and ask for what he wanted without having flashes of Alastair’s face and voice. It took him a year to not freeze when a partner caressed his hair while he gave a blowjob, being immediately taken back to that weekend and Alastair’s voice mocking him (‘Powerful men have whores on their knees eager to serve them. You’re a whore, Crowley. You will always be a whore. That’s your place and you love it’).

He wished he could let this thing with Robert advance to intimacy and enjoy it for a while, but he knew he would not be able to. It still demanded him a lot of mental energy to have a sexual partner and truly relax with them. He had a reason for resorting just to touch himself in the last years: it was safer, even if not fulfilling in the same way.

With Robert it didn’t feel difficult. He was eager to get closer. If the man asked him to get on his knees for him, he would, without a second thought, and he was quite sure no intruding voices of some scoundrel would be heard. 

But what, then? After the satisfying of the pressing lust for both of them, what would he do with the feelings that surely would stay inside him?

Because, even if Robert had feelings for him – and he must have, being honest like he was and acting like he had been around Crowley –, it was a matter of time for him to realize how messed-up the situation was and leave. 

Crowley should not permit himself to fantasize about Robert’s body close to his, skin pressed to skin, but he did. He should not want to touch Robert and find out the spots to make him moan, but he did. He should not want to hear Robert whispering his name or howling it in pleasure, but he did.

It just strengthened the temptation to believe there was hope for him to get out of that life of solitude.

Crowley shouldn’t, but he had fallen in love with Robert Singer.

Looking in retrospect, how could he not to, when that moron gave him a flower and compromised to take care of it with him in the long haul?

When the man spent his days taking care of him and making his life better in general?

When he worried if Crowley was included in social gatherings and made sure to tell him his presence would have made them more enjoyable?

Robert seized any opportunity he had to show how much he cared, and it left very little space for an argument. 

Crowley’s mind had decided to spoil his peace, tonight, bringing on the memories of Alistair, and what Robert did? Instead of pretending he didn’t notice anything, out of fear to intrude or respect or helplessness at the sight of him pouting in a darkened room, he decided the best course of action was to stay with him, no explanations asked. 

And it had worked.

Crowley felt calmer and safe just because Robert was there. 

He had been feeling happier since Robert entered his life.

Taken by fondness and gratitude, he caressed Bobby’s hair gingerly.

And gained a soft humming in return.

Against all sense of self-preservation, Crowley smiled.

Well, maybe there was no way out of this.

He didn’t think he had much to offer, with his long history of being deluded and abandoned, but it didn’t matter. For Robert, he was ready to face the inevitable heartbreak.

He would try his best, one more time. He would make that man as happy as he could, for as long as he was permitted to.

He closed his eyes, one hand sprawled on Bobby’s large back, the other resting on the man’s hair.

The contact helped him to relax and he was able to stop thinking so much.

 

xxx

 

Crowley woke up to the smell of coffee.

He sat on the sofa, blinking away the sleep and raising a hand to the crick on his neck.

He looked towards his kitchen.

Bobby was moving to one side to the other and, by the smells and sounds, he had been busy preparing breakfast.

Crowley was surprised to have fallen asleep again. It had never happened, before. When he had his flashbacks, they were followed by a long night sitting in the dark, eyes large like an owl.

Well, he had never had Robert with him, before.

He smiled fondly at the big bearded man diligently working in his kitchen, and remembered that he had kind of promised himself to be the best partner – or whatever – he could.

Crowley was overthinking again, adjusting his pajama shirt and trying to decide what to say or do to warn Bobby that he was awake, when the man turned.

He was obviously checking on him, and was surprised to see him sitting there.

(He must be a sight, disheveled, pulling at his clothes and staring like a madman.) 

Bobby grinned, coming to the living room, ‘Morning, Princess. How do you feel?’ 

‘Quite good’, Crowley moved his shoulders to rearrange his muscles and tendons, ‘Even if I was just made aware that this sofa is not the best place for an old man to spend the night’, he squinted, looking at the other man from head to toe, ‘What about you?’

‘I feel great, but I had the best mattress’, Bobby stopped in front of him and extended his hands, ‘Sorry to have fallen asleep on you’.

Crowley looked at the hands, at Bobby’s face, threw the comforter aside and accepted the unnecessary help, getting to his feet, ‘Don’t apologize, love. It was worth it’.

He was going to let go of the hands, but Bobby kept his hold, ‘You seem rested, at least’.

‘I am’, Crowley pressed his fingers against Bobby’s to show he understood the gesture, and found out he was not able to look away, even if he felt all hot and bothered, ‘Thank you’, he said, in a voice so sweet it was almost a whisper, ‘For everything’.

‘Anytime’, Bobby answered and went into action, raising Crowley’s hands to kiss them, then letting go and messing with his hair playfully, ‘Go get presentable. Breakfast is almost ready’.

 

Xxx

 

They spent Sunday morning listening to music, sitting barefoot on Crowley’s living room rug, and sharing info about Charlie – something they hadn’t had much opportunity to do, until then.

Crowley most had work-related stories that showed her being impressively smart. He hinted, however, at her sense of loyalty towards him and the partnership they had developed through the years.

At some point he even permitted himself to say, for the first time ever, that he considered her his friend.

Bobby, on the other side, had seen her with Sam and Dean in a multitude of scenarios (including some LARPing, that Dean loved with all his heart even if he denied it and just accompanied her when she implored) and, well, his stories spoke of the most adorable trio of dorks he had ever met.

Castiel’s name was mentioned, too, for Charlie liked him, and Crowley was curious on Bobby’s opinion on the guy.

‘He started closed off and squinty, and just trusted Dean’, he leaned forward in excitement at the topic, ‘Once he appeared out of nowhere and stayed moping around about Naomi and how powerless she made him feel. It was raining cats and dogs outside, he had been wearing the same clothes for days and we were locked with him inside the house’, his eyes shone at the memory, ‘And suddenly Dean yelled that he’d better get out of it and resume being God-like, because without his powers he was just a baby in a trench coat’. 

Crowley raised his brows, ‘And it worked?’

‘Yeah. Cas pouted for a whole minute but, when he came out of it, it was like he had been given new batteries’.

Crowley smiled, ‘Quite the one with an attitude, your oldest’.

‘That he is’, Bobby grinned proudly, ‘You remind me a bit of him when you raise your voice just enough to set people in action. He doesn’t have the same control – looking menacing on purpose is Sam’s camp – but Dean has a greatness of his own. You can see it the moment you lay eyes on him’.

‘Why, Robert’, Crowley chuckled, ‘Do we have a favorite?’

Bobby reddened, ‘I try not to, but the boy helped me raise his brother. Hell, he was raising his brother mostly by himself before I even was in the picture’, he lowered his eyes, ‘I didn’t have children of my own, but I was a child. I can relate to having a burden on your shoulders you’re too young to carry on. Dean needs someone to tell him how awesome he is. I make sure to do it, and to remind his brother to do the same’.

‘You surely are a wonderful father’.

Crowley’s words were said with such a feeling that Bobby stared at him in surprise.

‘But, back to Castiel…’, the shorter man decided to break the moment, ‘I’ve gone through Charlie’s cuteness attacks, too’, he fussed with some CD cases that were scattered around the rug, ‘They can be overwhelming for someone not used to…’, he gulped down, realizing he had gone through the same emotional path again, ‘…to things like that’.

Bobby nodded in understanding, ‘You should have seen Castiel the first time I hugged him. He asked why I was squeezing him with his body’.

Crowley was amused, ‘It’s something I can see him saying’, he leaned his head, ‘Why were you hugging him?’

‘He had just done something important for my boys, and I thought he deserved to know it was appreciated’.

‘You seem very keen to showing people how you feel through gestures’.

‘Society is already unhealthy enough, ridiculing boys for being affectionate. I’m not conforming to that’, he scowled, ‘Besides, it was time the guy understood we were not occasional allies, but friends – maybe family, if he proved to be reliable in the long term’.

Crowley smiled fondly.

Only Robert Singer could make grumpy sound so adorable.

‘Not just a wonderful father, but an example of enlightened patriarch’.

Bobby smiled, embarrassed, ‘Idjit’.

 

Xxx

 

They had lunch in a pizza place that Crowley loved, and spent their afternoon in a café with a view to a pretty garden, talking about places they had visited out of the United States.

Crowley described the countryside of Scotland and the suburbs of London; Bobby spoke of Canada, Mexico and Japan. 

It was implied that they would enjoy travelling together, if the opportunity came to be.

 

Xxx

 

Through all of that the subject of literally sleeping together was not mentioned. 

It was not hanging between them, creating awkwardness or begging to be mentioned. 

It felt like a milestone they had successfully passed by.

Now both were attentive to clues for the next one. 

 

xxx

 

Bobby just started picking up his things to go home after supper.

They had not talked about him leaving so late. They had been comfortable and content with each other, and postponing the moment to part seemed the logical thing to do, in such circumstances.

When everything was packed and ready (and it was not much, once Bobby just had his briefcase, two pairs of pajamas and some underwear), Crowley called the doorman to ask for a taxi.

The task begrudgingly done, he put the interphone in place and turned to Bobby.

The man was sitting on the arm of the sofa where they had spent the night together, arms crossed, eyes on him.

Crowley felt his chest tighten.

It’s been two days and it already felt like Robert belonged there. 

‘It feels kind of wrong to go away’, Bobby suddenly said.

It was ridiculous how quick Crowley’s heart was beating, but those were exactly the words he craved to hear.

‘I was thinking along the same lines, love’.

They stayed there, some feet apart, gazing into each other’s eyes like two idiots.

‘Well…’, Bobby was flustered, ‘Thank you for the hospitality’.

‘Thank you for accepting my offer’, Crowley hoped he was conveying at least a bit of the immense things he was feeling through his face, because he had no idea which words he would say next, or if they made any sense, ‘It’s been… the best I’ve felt’, he cleared his throat and added hurriedly, ‘In years’.

He wanted to be clear about how incredible their time together had been, but didn’t want to sound needy.

His trembling voice and probably heart-eyes were not helping.

‘Same here’, Bobby uncrossed his arms, ‘I just needed a place to stay and, when I arrived here, I found out you had offered your nest. You opened your doors to me without a warning call. It’s not something one gets every day’, his eyes were serious, ‘It’s special’.

Crowley felt himself melting, ‘You can count on me for anything’.

He spoke and flinched.

He was offering himself in a silver plate, again.

Like the whore he was.

Bobby must have noticed his turmoil, for he got up from the sofa and walked to him, ‘Speaking of that…’

Crowley gulped down.

He had no idea what they had been speaking of, to be sincere.

Robert stood right in front of him, visibly looking for the right words to say, and now Crowley had mixed feelings.

He was already having a hard time trying to suppress lustful thoughts when the man was being sexy while leaning casually against the sofa and at eye level; now Robert was close and at his full height, and Crowley could look ahead and stare at his large chest, or look up to his face as if he expected a kiss, and the whole situation was hot in a different way, ‘Yes?’

‘If you want me…’, Bobby reddened, licked his lips (making everything much, much worse) and went on, ‘…for a visit, a sleepover, whatever you need me for…’, he breathed deeply, ‘You just have to say it’.

Crowley didn’t find his voice.

‘If it happens again – if you wake up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep – don’t stay brooding by yourself. Call me. It doesn’t matter the time. Just call me. We can talk about it, or about something else, or not talk at all. If you say so, I can come over and keep you company’, he shuffled his feet, ‘I know I offered company last night but slept on you, but you get what I mean. I… Balls!’

Bobby had cursed because he was bothered at his difficulties to express himself.

Seemingly not finding a solution for that, he pulled Crowley against him for a hug.

It took the shorter man some moments to react, but when he did, he grabbed Bobby as if he was the most precious thing in his life.

Well, maybe he was.

‘It doesn’t matter what you went through. You don’t have to tell me anything, ever, if you don’t want to’, Bobby said, and Crowley could feel the man’s heart slamming on his chest, ‘But you must know that I care for you and I’ll be there when you need me’, he pulled him even tighter, ‘Because I need you, too. Don’t ever doubt it’.

The interphone rang, signaling the taxi had arrived.

They parted slowly, eyes deep into each others’.

No more words were exchanged.

They shared a longing stare that lasted until the door closed behind Bobby, leaving an astounded Crowley behind.

 

xxx

 

Monday morning Charlie arrived in the office earlier than usual.

Yes, she wanted to see what kind of work had accumulated during her extended absence but, most of all, she wanted to know what had happened to her favorite couple-to-be.

She was crazy to hear all about their night together – so to speak. The only news she got was a message from Bobby on Saturday morning saying ‘We’re good. Stop worrying and have your fun’, and nothing else.

She had respected their privacy and not texted them anymore, but curiosity was making her crazy.

Besides, she had been the one to suggest the arrangement. She felt entitled to some information.

 

xxx

 

Charlie had been fussing in Crowley’s desk for some time when the door of the office opened to reveal the boss.

He gave her a smile and started for his desk, visibly limping.

When he reached his chair, he sat and spoke lightly, even if through a wincing face, ‘Welcome back, darling. Hope your reign was not one of terror’.

‘Thank you and, no, it was great. I am great’, she grinned, shrugging without an ounce of modesty, then made a gesture at him, ‘What happened? Don’t remember seeing you in any of the jests that had the honor to receive my royal presence’.

‘Oh, no, no medieval adventures for me in the weekend. It’s just that Robert proved to be quite heavy’, he scrunched his nose, ‘Surely something I can get used to, but it caught me off guard’, he moved his shoulders to relax them, ‘First times can be uncomfortable’.

Charlie was open mouthed at that.

She raised her brows, urging him to explain what he meant.

‘You could just admit you underestimated my size, shorty’, Bobby’s voice came from the door. He closed it, walked to Charlie to hug her warmly and went to the tea corner. 

All through that, Crowley had a maddening innocent little grin on his face.

When Bobby turned back, he had a pill and a glass of water, ‘Take this while I prepare something warm’.

Crowley took the pill and the glass without a second thought, ‘Thank you, love’.

Bobby nodded, threw a glance at Charlie and asked the other man, ‘Didn’t change your mind?’

Crowley’s face softened, ‘Never’.

Bobby rolled his eyes and turned to the corner to put the glass back.

‘Hey!’, Charlie got out of her daze, ‘Someone tell me what’s going on!’

‘What do you mean?’, the boss asked, annoyingly calm.

She pointed at Crowley, ‘You are sore’, she pointed at Bobby, ‘He is bigger than you expected’, her eyes went from one to the other, ‘And you both stopped answering my messages!’, she raised her arms in pleading, ‘Don’t you have anything to share with the class?!’

They frowned at her.

Suddenly, Bobby sighed and stated, ‘I’m fetching some contracts from the nosy girl’s desk’. 

And he walked away through the door’s office, closing it behind him.

‘Bobby exits’, Crowley said, ‘End scene’.

Charlie’s mouth was hanging open.

‘You’ll give yourself a dislocated jaw, darling’.

‘What happened?!’

‘A lot of things happened during your very long absence. An absence just made possible by my generosity and Robert’s hardworking, by the way’.

‘Boss…’

‘You just have to be more specific’, he gave that teasing smile he had been developing to show off when he was in a good mood, ‘Seriously. Just ask the right questions and I’ll tell what you want to know’.

Charlie joined her hands in front of herself, as if calming down through some sort of meditation, pondered on what to ask and went for, ‘The wincing. What is it about?’

‘We shared the couch, he fell asleep on top of me and it seems he is right when he calls me Princess, once he is so big and heavy’. 

‘He slept on top of you?!’

‘Oh, yes. It was very nice and then it was like wrestling’, he moved his hand in the air vaguely, ‘Robert made it impossible to disentangle myself from him. Not that I wanted to; my point is that the man gets an iron grip when he is enjoying himself, and he clearly was enjoying using me like that’.

‘I feel a sudden urge to fan myself, but I’m not sure it’s the case’, Charlie said, frowning in confusion, ‘Did you just use a metaphor for doing the nasty?’

Crowley made a face, ‘Doing the nasty? Who still uses that expression?’

‘I like vintage’, Charlie pouted, ‘Is it or not?’

‘Stop making the Puss in Boots’ face’.

‘But I need to know!’, she sat in front of his desk, put both hands on it and her chin on her hands, imploring, ‘I ship you two so hard! I’m dying, here!’

Crowley scoffed without real heat, ‘All right, I’ll clarify. Just stop it’.

Charlie straightened her back immediately and made her happy-puppy face.

‘No, we didn’t…’, he mimicked her, ‘…do the nasty’, at her squint, he went on, ‘I was just messing with you and being purposely ambiguous’, he smirked, ‘For your information, we really shared the sofa, he fell asleep and I decided he would be more comfortable on top of me and it was worth a crick in my neck’, he thought for a moment, then added, ‘And I asked Robert’s permission to tease you. He made me promise not to torture you more than strictly necessary to get an amusing reaction’.

She crossed her arms on her chest, indignant, ‘Well, hope you had your fun’.

‘Yes, I did’.

‘Then, now, spill!’

Crowley supported his face on his joined hands, ‘We watched movies. We talked. We had meals together. We listened to music. We chatted on everything and nothing’, he smiled, ‘Words can’t describe what happened’. 

‘It sounds great!’, Charlie said, a big grin on her face.

‘It was perfect’, he changed his stance, adjusting his suit, ‘He is perfect’.

Charlie clapped her hands, excited.

Crowley hesitated for a moment, glanced at the door and resumed, lowering his voice, ‘Robert said you mentioned some of my… quirks to him’.

Charlie’s back straightened in alert, her eyes went wide and she spoke hurriedly, her trademark guilty overall look, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’.

‘He said you told him I always think people are going to leave me’, he looked at her sternly, ‘And I have reasons to believe you mentioned my… troubles with sleep, too’.

She just widened her eyes even more.

‘I want to thank you. He didn’t know much, but he knew enough to act when I needed him’, he winced, ‘What I did – thus the human blanket covering me and subduing my night terrors’.

‘Awwwww’, Charlie had hearts in her eyes, an ecstatic grin plastered on her face, ‘In that case, yes, I’ve told him, and yes, you’re welcome!’

‘I feel like I still owe you, in fact’, Crowley added, and then Bobby was back and he resumed speaking in a normal voice, ‘If it was not for your intervention, I would have never found out that Robert is the best weekend partner I could wish for’.

‘Again, you’re welc-Wait!’, she turned to Bobby, ‘When did you go home?’

‘Last night’.

‘You spent the whole weekend together?!’

They nodded, staring at her as if they were not understanding her surprise.

‘Wow’, she looked from one to the other.

‘What’s the face for?’, Bobby raised a wary brow.

‘Nothing’, she hurried to say, ‘Just promise I’ll be the first to know when things happen?’

Both men stayed looking at her, baffled.

Then Bobby shrugged, ‘Sure’, he turned to the tea corner, ‘I’ll make you something, Charlie. Stuff to calm your nerves’.

‘You bet I need it’, she answered, a hand over her heart, then smirked, ‘And let me guess: you won’t ask if the boss wants something because you already know the answer and exactly how he likes it’.

Bobby threw her a smile over his shoulder.

‘You know, darling, I’m really in a bit of pain, but I still can throw things with accuracy’, Crowley tried to sound menacing through his obvious contentment, ‘And we know for a fact that dear Robert there can hit you with a sugar spoon without turning – so, don’t poke at us’.

‘It means I’m right!’

‘You’re often right, what is annoying and endearing in equal measures’.

Charlie grinned.

And then she sat back on the chair and watched her favorite show for a while: Crowley, relaxed in his own chair, staring at Bobby’s large back with a mix of fondness and the heat of desire; the way he kept staring when his assistant turned to them with their tea cups, even if he made the effort to not be so obvious; the men’s eyes meeting when Crowley reached for his tea and they shared a moment.

Charlie ‘awed’ again.

Two pairs of eyes were rolled at her reactions.

‘So’, Bobby spoke, fetching his own mug, ‘You say we’re the ones not telling…’, he leaned on the boss’ desk like he owned the place and everything in it, ‘…but I haven’t heard a word on your weekend, yet, your Highness’.


	9. There's a first time for everything

Crowley had been revising a contract and scribbling some furious notes on its margins when Bobby talked to him.

‘Can you stop torturing that piece of paper for a moment?’

‘I’m not torturing it; I’m saving it from the terrible Fate of carrying such a badly written text’, he shook his head at the thing, incredulous, ‘But, given the opportunity, I’d make sure no one in the History of torture has been tortured with torture like the torture the ones who did this should be tortured with’.

‘That’s some impressive Grammar construction, idjit, but I have something important to tell you’.

Surprised, Crowley raised his eyes.

Bobby was right in front of his desk, and he looked nervous.

He had been different since last weekend. Well, both had been, and not in a bad way – more daring in their touches and gazes, bolder in their flirting – but something had definitively changed in Bobby’s attitude, and Crowley wondered if there was a plan in motion.

Maybe the man believed the metaphorical ball of their relationship was in his court, once it was Crowley who invited him to spend the night. Robert was a gentleman; thus, he may be looking for a way to reciprocate.

Crowley surely wanted some reciprocation – whatever Robert’s resourceful mind came up with –, because it meant more advances in their relationship; however, he felt they were square in terms of shows of affection and availability, for he was the one to offer his apartment, but Bobby was the best company, offered support when needed, pulled him for bear hugs and declared he needed him. 

Those things count as more than reciprocation, in Crowley’s book.

‘Well, that was formal’, he frowned slightly, ‘Is there any problem, Robert?’

‘No. I mean, maybe’.

It didn’t cease to amaze Crowley that a man so interesting could feel insecure or embarrassed, and still there he was, being adorably shy again.

‘It’s not like you to be all discombobulated’, he let go of the pen, sat back on the chair and joined his hands on his lap, ‘If you wanted my undivided attention, you succeeded’.

Bobby scowled, munched on the words for a bit, then started, ‘I’ve been thinking, and…’, he scratched his head in a gesture Crowley was sure he must have done his whole life while using a cap, ‘I have an invitation for you’.

‘An invitation?’, he raised his brows in fake surprise, once it had passed through his mind that a date could be in the horizon, ‘To what?’

‘Is not what. Is where’, Bobby corrected, ‘Sioux Falls’.

Now Crowley sat straighter in the chair, truly surprised, ‘Your hometown?’

‘Yeah’.

‘Any special occasion?’

‘Dean called. Sam will be visiting next weekend. Charlie wants to see the boys, I miss them, so… I’m going with her’, he shrugged, ‘It’s been months since I left and I don’t regret the change, but I lived there my whole life. It’ll be nice to set foot in the old yard, again’.

Crowley nodded in understanding.

Bobby had a whole life prior to Hell’s Bells. He obviously never forgot that life, even if he has been completely capable of staying away from it. It made sense that he seized Charlie’s probably offer of a lift to be with her and his boys.

(The unspoken reasons why he didn’t regret staying far from Sioux Falls made Crowley fight a smile.) 

‘And you want me there because?’

‘The boys’ve been asking about you’.

‘Why would they-’, he cut himself off, realization dawning on him, ‘Oh’.

‘Yeah, your name keeps coming up. Sam and Dean are not stupid. They realized you mean a lot to me. They want to meet you’.

Crowley didn’t know what to say.

He had loved the subtle crescendo of their closeness – touching hands unnecessarily when reaching for contracts, reading over the other’s shoulder, not even mentioning Bobby’s new habit of putting an arm on Crowley’s shoulders whenever they were going to say their goodbyes, as if he was not sure a hug would be proper but had to do something. 

They had been slowly and unrelentingly advancing towards each other.

There was no clear idea of where they were going to, but, surprisingly, it didn’t bother Crowley at all.

He trusted his partner to be with him every step of the way.

But now Bobby wanted to introduce him to the guys he considered his sons.

They were doing things in a very strange order. 

‘I know how it sounds. You didn’t even come to my place and I’m dragging you to a family trip’, Bobby resumed explaining himself, ‘But the apartment here is not really where you’ll find out if… It’s not where you’ll get to know me. It’s Sioux Falls. It’s the boys. It’s the life I used to live before we met’.

Crowley realized what Bobby wanted was to make sure he saw what he had done before their time together.

It was very considerate of him.

Even if, again, it meant he considered seriously the possibility of Crowley having a change of heart at something he could find out about his past.

Well, Crowley never mentioned his own past not just because it hurt, but because he considered most of it sad and ugly.

Maybe they were afraid of very similar things.

It made the invitation even more meaningful.

‘I’m honored, Robert’, he offered his most sincere smile, ‘I’ll love to go with you to Sioux Falls’.

‘Great!’, Bobby kind of bubbled in joy, what was very unusual for him, ‘Charlie is driving us, but I’m coming back with my truck. It’s old but it’s loyal and I miss travelling around…’

He paused, looking at Crowley meaningfully.

‘Why, someone if full of invitations, today’, he grinned, ‘Yes, Robert, I’ll go with you and Charlie, I’m coming back with you if you don’t kick me out before the end of the weekend and yes, I’m very interested in…’, he mimicked Bobby’s accent, ‘travelling around in your old and loyal truck’.

The bubbling joy was back, ‘Hope you don’t mind going with Charlie. The car is not big, but she drives like a mad woman and will take us there in a couple of hours’, he was grinning, ‘I’m more into taking my time and appreciating the view, so, at least the way back is not going to be too terrorizing’.

‘Of course I don’t mind travelling with you two – Team Unicorn is a thing, after all’, he looked at Bobby from head to toe, ‘And I’m sure we can have plenty of fun by ourselves, too’.

Bobby’s jaw fell at Crowley’s gaze.

He was suddenly aware of the possibilities. 

(And now he couldn’t decide if he wanted an uneventful trip or some stupid reason to stop and have more time just for the two of them.)

 

Xxx

 

They were ecstatic about the trip for the whole week.

Charlie had been radiant at the prospect of seeing Sam and Dean, but since Bobby had asked her if he could invite Crowley everything had gotten infinitely better.

She had been in the anteroom when he left the office after gathering all the courage he had and make the invitation. 

He was flustered and growled something that sounded like ‘He is going with us’ before disappearing for what she supposed was some urgently needed time alone to recollect himself.

She jumped in surprise when the boss immediately called her through the interphone.

Charlie entered the office and was immediately attacked by a very agitated and maybe slightly euphoric Crowley, who wanted to ask her all kinds of questions on what to wear and how to behave when he was introduced to Bobby’s family.

 

xxx

 

It was like a dream come true until Friday – the day before the trip –, when something unexpected happened.

They had an extended mid-afternoon break in order to finish the details for their trip, and Charlie had just left the office to straight up some things with Selling (that was still in turbulence since the denounces against Alastair kept growing in quantity and variety).

She had the task of finding out some previews on the status of the highways and routes for next morning, too.

Bobby was at his desk, trying to decide where to start the weekly organization process, and entertaining the thought of asking for help with it, just to see if he managed to get Crowley to hang around him for a while instead of staying that far (sitting at his own desk).

And that was when Crowley received a message in his phone.

Bobby watched the boss stare at the screen for a solid minute as if he wasn’t understanding what he was reading.

Then he blinked away some of whatever he had been feeling or thinking and announced in an emotionless voice, ‘It seems I can’t leave the city this weekend’, he put the phone on the desk, screen turned downside, ‘I’m sorry’.

Bobby immediately circled his own desk to get closer, ‘What happened?’

‘Nothing. I just remembered a previous commitment’, Crowley’s eyes were fixed on some point at the lateral wall.

The stare was so intense Bobby turned to look there, too, afraid he was missing something.

He was not. 

It meant Crowley was avoiding eye contact because he was miserable.

‘A previous commitment that just sent you a text?’

Crowley looked at Bobby for a second, then turned his chair, as if ready to get up, but decided against it when the man approached until he was standing in the way in case the boss tried to leave.

(Crowley didn’t turn the chair the other way because it would have been ridiculous.

It was not completely out of question to make a hurried escape, but he needed to plan it better.)

He chose another moot spot to stare at, ‘It was a reminder’. 

‘A reminder that you can’t spend the weekend with me?’

Crowley felt his heart clench.

He knew he would end up hurting Bobby. The moment had arrived.

‘What can I do to help?’

Crowley kept looking anywhere but at the other man.

Robert should be angry at him, or at least disappointed. But no, he was offering help and support, like he always did.

It just made everything more difficult.

‘You don’t have to tell me what it is, if you don’t want to. But let me do something to make you feel better’.

Crowley gulped down and spoke without raising his eyes, ‘I already said there is nothing wrong. You don’t have to-’

‘Worry about you? It’s a bit late for that’.

‘You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything’, he resumed, jaw clenched, his voice a lot more sarcastic and a lot less condescending than intended, ‘If you still want me to go with you another time, we can do it’.

Crowley spoke and forced himself not to flinch at his own wording. 

Implying it could be a once-in-a-lifetime invitation was a stupid way to fish for a promise.

Speaking of it as if he didn’t care was a horrible way to try to dismiss Robert’s concern.

Well, he didn’t have much more to offer, being the emotional disaster he was. 

Crowley breathed deeply and adjusted his suit, hurrying to speak again and not permit Bobby to answer to his previous statement, ‘Maybe we should leave early, given the unexpected change of plans and the necessary adjustments’. 

‘Nobody is leaving this room until you stop pretending’.

Now Bobby got a pair of eyes squinted at him and a deep menacing voice that he had never heard from that man – at least, not directed at him, ‘You may be overstepping some boundaries here, pet’.

‘I don’t care. You’re not all right and I can see it’. 

‘Bold of you to assume I need anything from some redneck who has the gall to press me for answers I’m not willing to give’.

Bobby’s face turned into shock.

Seeing that was to Crowley like being slapped awake, and he regretted his words immediately, ‘I’m sorry, Robert’, he covered his face with his hands and sighed tiredly, ‘I can’t talk about it now. Just let it go’.

There was no answer for some moments.

And then there was a shuffling of clothes, and Crowley lowered his hands to see what was happening.

Bobby was walking away.

‘Robert…’, he called, his voice on the verge of despair, one hand extended in pleading, ‘Please, forgive me. I didn’t intend to-’ 

‘Calm down, idjit. I’m not going anywhere’, Bobby grabbed his own chair and rolled it to where he had been standing, facing Crowley behind the main desk.

To his merit, Crowley just slumped in his chair, accepting that they were going to have that conversation.

Bobby sat and started speaking, very calm, ‘I get whatever is happening is not easy for you and you don’t feel like talking about it. However, we’re beyond the point where I can pretend it’s ok to leave you to carry your burdens alone. So, I’ll help you to take it off your chest’.

Crowley sneered, ‘You speak as if I had the flu’.

‘Keep the attitude as much as you want. It just makes more obvious how bad this is’.

The boss crossed one leg over the other, supported his elbow on the desk and his face on the palm of his hand – the image of resignation, ‘What do you have in mind?’ 

Bobby leaned a bit forward, eyes set on Crowley’s, ‘We’re playing a game me and the boys used when they had something to say and didn’t have the guts to’.

Crowley squinted.

‘You can ask me five questions, about anything at all, and I have to answer with the truth to all of them; in exchange, I get the story, no matter how hard it is to tell it’.

Crowley scoffed, ‘So, now you’re treating me like a ten years old boy…’

‘Last time I had to use it with Dean he was way past thirty’, Bobby raised his brows, ‘Castiel, a liquor store and some bromance were involved’.

‘Oh’, Crowley perked up a bit, ‘The blue eyed angel has been more than just an acquaintance with your Dean?’

‘Was that your first question?’

Crowley kept staring, still surprised that Robert’s oldest would have difficulties telling him something, that that something had been related to the always so proper Castiel...

And he realized that he was going through the same, in fact – trying to hide something important from Robert as if it helped his situation.

‘Bollocks…’

Bobby smirked and waited.

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself, and opened them again, ‘No. It was not my first question’.

Bobby grinned at the implied agreement, ‘Come on, then’, he prodded, ‘Hit me’.

‘Before we start: personal questions are allowed?’

‘Sure. The boys would fire some baffling ones, trying to make me give up’.

Crowley nodded, ‘And what the level of detail I get in the answers?’

‘As much as you want’.

‘That’s pretty risky on your part’.

‘I have to offer something worth the pain if I want someone to open up’.

‘Why do you have to be so wonderful?’, Crowley huffed, ‘I don’t stand a chance!’

‘That’s the idea’, Bobby got comfortable in his chair, ‘Get it on’.

Crowley joined his hands on his lap and stayed like that, his head half turned to one side, eyes on Bobby, while he pondered on what to ask.

Bobby licked his lips, taken by how handsome the man was when he had that calculating expression on his face.

No. ‘Handsome’ he was most of the time.

Now he was just plain hot.

Bobby had seen him doing that face while working, but watching Crowley looking at him like that – as if he could read his soul – and with the hint of malice that came from their recent closeness, was sexy as Hell.

‘Have you ever been in a serious relationship? Like, married or living together?’

(So, that was where Crowley decided to start…)

‘Yeah. I was married for seven years’, Bobby answered as soon as his mind reorganized itself from lustful thoughts to some bad memories, ‘We were high school sweethearts. She wanted children. I asked her to wait until we had some savings, she agreed, and then she got sick and I spent all I had – money, time, hope – on her treatment’.

Crowley blinked in surprise, ‘You’re a widower?’

Bobby nodded, ‘I never talk about it because I didn’t deal well with the grief. I went through a rough phase. It took me years to get back on my feet’, he lowered his eyes, ‘I felt like I should have saved her. In my mind I knew it was not my fault, but still I couldn’t get over it, and someone drowning in sorrow over the death of a loved one is not the most charming thing’, he gave a sad small laugh, managing to look at the other man’s face again, ‘When I managed to go to bed with someone, I realized I couldn’t do more than one night-stands, because my only relationship had been so deep and loving. It’s nonsense running after someone who’s not that special’, he shrugged, ‘If I just wanted to get warm at night I’d stay with my blankets’.

Crowley let out a surprised chuckle, ‘I was ready to say I’m sorry for your loss, but that last part was unexpected’.

‘Like I said, I got over it’, Bobby explained, ‘I stayed busy. It helped keeping my head up. Time doesn’t heal things like that, but it helps going on’, he sighed, readjusting in the chair to undo some tension, ‘Next question?’

Crowley nodded, agreeing to change the subject and advance in the game, ‘How did you meet the boys you adopted?’

Bobby’s face illuminated, ‘I was arrested for a lot of stupid little things during that rough path, and the Sheriff – Jody Mills, I’ll introduce you two, one day – put me in a group of grief management. There I met John Winchester, the boys’ father. He was a widower, too. Lost the wife in a fire. Travelled a lot, didn’t make the best decisions, was convinced the fire had been a crime and Police was hiding the truth from him. He was going to the counselling against his will, but he was a nice chap and we ended up being friends’. 

‘He travelled with his children?’

‘Most of the time. But he would leave them in motels, too. Dean was eleven when I met them, and I wondered since when John had been leaving the boy to take care of his brother while he hunted monsters that probably just existed in his head’, Bobby sighed at the memory, ‘First time I talked to him about getting the boys some stability in life he told me to fuck off. But then he needed to leave them for a whole week because of some trail, I offered, he accepted, things went good, I said Sam and Dean could stay with me while he kept his hunting, and he had to admit that was for the best’.

Crowley nodded in understanding, then asked, ‘What happened to him?’

‘Enlisted as a firefighter in a small town, thinking he had found a clue. Never found a thing on his wife’s death. He liked the job and was starting to settle down’, his eyes got saddened, ‘And then he died like the damned hero he was, helping a woman out of a collapsing house’.

Crowley winced, ‘Ouch. So much for Fate’.

Bobby agreed, ‘John was a very good man. Life was not fair to him’, he sighed, ‘He had written me down as legal guardian for his boys, so they just stayed with me after all was settled’. 

‘They were lucky’.

‘I was, too’, Bobby smiled fondly, ‘They are smart and good in their hearts. Dean got in some trouble after his father died. He got obsessed over the idea that his old man had been killed by the same monster that had killed his mom’.

‘I get it he didn’t fly away’.

‘He loved his little brother too much to leave him behind’, Bobby shrugged, ‘And he was thirteen. There was not much he could have done by himself’.

‘I’m glad they stayed with you. Of course you’re too involved and Charlie is too naïve for you to be good judges of character, but they seem to be great guys’, Crowley leaned his head, ‘And they gave you purpose in life. That’s important’.

‘Yeah’, Bobby grinned, then made a gesture, ‘Next?’

‘Oh’, Crowley blinked.

There was not much more he needed to know now.

He was curious about Bobby (had been since their first meeting), but it could wait. Whatever there was to be found, it would probably just make him fonder of the man, anyway.

‘I feel like you have already answered a thousand questions, Robert’, Crowley stated, his voice gentle, ‘I don’t think I should abuse’.

‘This game has rules’, Bobby contradicted, ‘You still have three questions left, and I’m not giving you a way out of our deal’.

‘Are you happy here?’

It came so quickly that Bobby swayed as if he had been punched.

‘If you’re talking about the job, it’s the cleanest and safest thing I’ve ever done. And it’s the fanciest, too – never thought I’d work for a big company, much less that I’d do it with a colleague who wore Princess Lea t-shirts under her office clothes, or have a boss who’s a Princess himself and doesn’t force me to wear suits all the time’.

They shared smiles over that.

(Charlie’s wardrobe was the reason why Bobby was permitted to wear flannel and jeans at work. Yes, she had to hid the nerdy t-shirts when visitors came, he had to buy some solid-colored shirts because plaid was considered not fashionable enough, and worn-out clothes of any kind were forbidden for both, but they were grateful that someone so smart-dressed as Crowley gave them such freedom.)

‘But if you’re trying to ask me how I feel about working for you…’, Bobby resumed, getting serious, ‘You should know better than that’, his eyes set on Crowley’s, ‘I like working for you. A lot. Because I like being with you. I like you. I don’t miss my old life so much because you changed everything and it feels like my place now is where you are’.

Crowley’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Balls!’, Bobby’s hands were in the air between them, hesitant, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you’, one hand lowered back to his lap, the other landed on Crowley’s knee, ‘Now I won’t get my story!’

That made Crowley laugh, and he dried his tears, ‘If I can save my last questions for another occasion, you can have your story now’.

‘Deal’, Bobby patted the knee as a parting gesture but stayed leaning towards the other man, elbows on his knees, ‘So, breathe and tell me what I want to know’.

Crowley obeyed, taking a deep calming breath, then spoke, ‘I received a text from my mother. She is coming over tonight to stay some days with me’.

Bobby gulped down.

The subject promised to be delicate.

‘And that’s a problem because we had plans?’

‘That, too, but not just that’.

Bobby nodded and waited.

‘She has done it before. I know how it goes. She calls, informing me she is coming. She stays for some days, telling me everything about her wonderful life. She points all the small details that made my life empty. She gives advice I don’t need and that is usually quite offensive. And then she goes on her merry ways’, he made a gesture with his wrist, ‘Just like that’.

‘Couldn’t you tell her she can’t stay with you? Not this weekend, but at all?’, Bobby frowned, ‘I didn’t have the best times with my old man – I’m not telling now, it’s an ugly story – and sometimes the only thing to do about a poisoning relationship is keeping a distance, even if they’re family’, his blue eyes softened, ‘Family don’t end with blood, you know?’

Crowley smiled.

It made all the sense in the world for the man who had adopted two boys to say that.

‘I paid some good hours of therapy to discuss the matter, Robert and, believe me, I’m well aware of how sick this situation is’, Crowley’s shoulders fell, ‘But our story is a convoluted sequence of repeated abandonment, and I don’t feel like I should do to her what she did to me’.

‘I get it she left you when you were a kid’, Bobby spoke with a lower voice, ‘It’s not the same’.

‘She left me and got back so many times that I reached my teens thinking that was how a mother was supposed to act when her child was not good enough’, his eyes filled with renewed tears, ‘Until today, every time she leaves I keep thinking what I’ve done wrong this time’.

Bobby’s breathing halted.

He pulled his chair a bit closer, ‘She used to leave you with whom?’

‘Orphanages’, Crowley shrugged, ‘I didn’t know my father. She always said she had been very disappointed when I was born and he didn’t believe I was his, so she left me behind as soon as the opportunity came up’, his eyes wandered in that familiar pained way, ‘When every relationship ended, or when she didn’t have anything better to occupy her time, she would come over and pick me up’.

‘The system permitted it?’

‘We lived in a very secluded part of Scotland. Very rural. There was not really a system, just some nuns who kept the most impoverished alive. People preferred not to mention the woman who kept leaving her boy, but they were relieved when maternal instincts kicked in and she came back – they would praise the Lord for touching her heart’.

Bobby clenched his fists to not reach out.

He wanted to soothe that old pain, but he was not sure contact would be welcomed, at this point.

‘Sometimes she wanted to show off a cute child as her own, to gain pity or some money. When people realized her tricks she was called a lot of very interesting things – ‘witch’ was one of the more frequent’, his expression hardened, ‘And I was called a bastard more times than I cared to count’.

‘Damn…’

‘She never laid a hand on me, but she explained in detail how much of an annoyance I was. She needed a poster child for her purposes, and I clearly was not that’.

Crowley seemed to get smaller, and Bobby felt his heart tighten for him.

‘I got sick. I got tired and wanted to sleep when she wanted to show me off. I did stupid little things to have her attention’, his face contorted, ‘I remember I had learned how to juggle from a travelling circus that visited one of the orphanages, and it seemed the perfect thing to amuse her current suitor and make her happy. So, when she took me with her for a visit in his grand house, I waited for them to leave the room, picked the small shining decorative things from the center table, and you can guess what a ten-year old child managed to do with the crystal stuff that was laying around’, he scrunched his face at the memory, ‘And you can guess what happened as soon as we left’.

‘She stated how much undeserving of her love you were’.

Crowley’s chin trembled at the precise guess, ‘And that I should be grateful that she still gave me chances’.

‘Damn her’, Bobby huffed, feeling his own eyes wet, ‘Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful. They’re supposed to eat your food, break your heart’, he tried to control his angriness, ‘Parents are supposed to guard and protect. We all start small and stupid and need someone there for us’.

Crowley leaned his head, ‘You seem to know what you’re talking about’, he frowned, ‘Your father was that bad?’

‘Yeah’, Bobby grunted.

Crowley nodded and sniffed, drying his tears with his sleeve. 

Bobby remembered Charlie telling him about it.

Yes, one could see the boy he had been, doing those same gestures.

Well, Bobby had been a boy who learned how to deal with his crying by himself, too. He understood that pain completely.

Crowley resumed speaking, his voice low and resigned, ‘She taught me that begging doesn’t work, that asking for forgiveness doesn’t work, that nothing ever works for me. I used to pray for some angel to whisper in her ear that I deserved another chance because I would try harder next time. And I prayed for God to tell me what to do, because I had no idea what was so wrong with me. All in hopes she could someday love me’, Crowley looked at Bobby, ‘And that’s how I’ve been dealing with everyone I care about, since then. I do my best, but deep inside I know that I may do something wrong along the way’, he shook his head, ‘Before you arrived, Robert, I used to spend most of my time fighting the little voice in my head that says I’m a disappointment’.

‘Hey’, Bobby gave up resisting the urge, pulled his chair even closer and took Crowley’s hands in his, ‘My old man used to say I broke everything I touched’, he lifted their joined hands to show them together, ‘I can’t go on believing that, can I?’

‘Robert’, Crowley leaned forward, too, ‘If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have married someone you loved so much. If you believed that, you wouldn’t be able to get over her death like you did. And, most of all, you wouldn’t have raised two great boys when their father was not in the right mind to do so’.

‘Yeah’, Bobby gulped down, his eyes set on Crowley’s vehemently, ‘But you get what I mean, don’t you? That I’m afraid to hurt you but I’m already too much into you to turn my back and run away?’

‘Oh, dear’, Crowley’s mouth opened in surprise, ‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying my feelings for you run deep’, Bobby freed his hands to move them up Crowley’s arms, ‘I’m saying I’m scared like Hell but I can’t stand watching you suffering alone when you could be happy with me’, he blinked, ‘Jesus, that didn’t sound right…’

‘It did. I’ve got it’, Crowley assured him, one of his hands venturing bravely to rest on Bobby’s cheek, ‘My feelings run deep, too, and they agree with you: I’m happy when we’re together’, his eyes flickered to Bobby’s lips, ‘All I want is to be able to make you at least a bit happy, too’. 

‘A bit?’, Bobby gave a surprised chuckle, ‘You have no idea…’

He leaned his head slightly, eyes on Crowley’s mouth.

Crowley leaned forward.

Their eyes closed and their lips met.

It was the softest and most tentative of touches.

They parted and gazed into each other’s eyes lovingly.

‘Do we have a deal?’, Bobby whispered.

Somehow, Crowley's mind, even dizzy with emotion, knew exactly what he was being asked. 

‘Yes, love. We have a deal’.

Bobby pressed their lips together again.

It was firmer and more demanding, this time.

Crowley opened his mouth for his tongue to taste Bobby’s lips.

He sincerely hoped it was not too soon, because he was getting desperate.

Another tongue immediately came to greet his. 

‘Guys! I have news on the-Woah!’

In an incredible twist of Fate, Charlie had entered the room, unintentionally breaking the moment.

She quickly realized her mistake and stayed there, frozen, watching in horror while Bobby pushed his chair hurriedly away from Crowley and stumbled awkwardly to his feet, face red and avoiding eye contact while dragging the said chair back to its place behind his desk.

Crowley stayed sitting there, staring at Bobby and then at Charlie, seemingly not knowing what to do.

When Bobby stopped fussing, he stood behind his desk, scowling, and Charlie made her most apologetic face.

Crowley was red-eyed, what made her think he had been crying, but was now visibly fighting with all his strength to not burst into laughter.

Or he found the situations hilarious or he was very light-headed.

(If her eyes were not lying to her, ‘light-headed’ was the correct answer.)

‘Whatever is it you realized, darling…’, the boss said once he was able to speak through his grin, ‘If it is related to the trip, you may discuss it solely with Robert. I was just explaining to him that I can’t accompany you, this time’.

‘But why?’, she whined.

He made a pained face, ‘The witch is coming to town’.

‘Oh’, she scowled, ‘What a bad timing!’

Bobby looked at her in surprise, ‘You know about his mother?’

‘One of the few things I’ve found out in five years’, she winked at Bobby, ‘No need to get jealous’.

He grunted in what could be agreement, back to fussing with the things on his desk, and Charlie shared a look with her boss.

Saying she had ‘found out’ couldn’t be truer. Crowley mentioned some small towns where he had lived and, knowing his surname, she was able to discover the rest (the orphanage thing, for example) through research.

The information was useful every time the woman visited, because Charlie knew Crowley would be emotionally compromised for the whole thing, and knowing at least part of what his mother’s presence meant was essential to help him through it.

Now Bobby was there for him, too. 

It was written in Crowley’s eyes that he trusted the man.

(Well, he had told Bobby about his mother in the first situation that presented itself, no laborious research required.)

Charlie nodded at Crowley and he nodded back in understanding.

Then he cleared his throat, ‘Like I suggested before we kind of missed the point in our conversation, Robert…’, he teased the other man just to see him redden again, ‘You two may go. It’s almost time to leave, anyway, and, even if I’ll not join you this time, I wish you have a nice weekend with Sam and Dean’.

Bobby smiled at Crowley’s using his boys’ names as if he already knew them.

And then he threw his hands in the air, glaring at his desk, ‘I didn’t even start cleaning this off’.

Charlie was amused at his pretense of minding how neat it was, when everybody in the room knew he just cared because Crowley did.

‘I will do it for you, love’, the boss said, sweetly, ‘It’s a way of compensating for my last minute cancelation’.

‘As if you didn’t enjoy fussing in my things’.

‘One more reason to let me, isn’t it?’

Crowley spoke and grinned charmingly.

Bobby grinned back, ‘Right. You win, Princess’.

And now Charlie had to know what exactly she had interrupted.

‘Let’s get going, then, before the Evil Overlord changes his mind’, she said, intending to get Bobby’s attention, ‘I just saw the traffic and weather stats. Best time to leave is until four in the morning. I’m on board if you are for hitting the road before dawn’.

‘Sounds good to me’, Bobby answered.

And stayed there, as if not knowing what to do.

Charlie realized he was torn between leaving with her right then and staying a bit more, maybe to resume whatever he had been doing with Crowley.

‘I have some things to finish up, too’, she started, ‘I’ll be-’

‘Please, darling, don’t’, Crowley interrupted her attempt of leaving, ‘I’ll wrap up for everybody’.

He spoke and looked at Bobby pointedly. 

‘Right’, Bobby picked his things, put them quickly in his handbag and walked to Charlie, who already was in the middle of the room (you don’t hesitate when the boss sounds decisive like that).

But then he stopped, ‘Crowley?’

‘Yes, love?’

‘You can stay with that witch of your mother, this time. But we’re doing something about it, when I get back. You hear me?’

Crowley opened his mouth as if to object, but closed it and nodded, ‘Yes’, his eyes shone, ‘I can barely wait to have another heart-to-heart with you about it’.

Bobby licked his lips.

Charlie’s mouth opened in realization.

(How she wished she had a ‘Kiss already!’ board to hold over her head, from now on, when they got like that.) 

Bobby shuffled his feet, then scowled at the room in general and growled at Crowley, ‘This is not over’.

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way’. 

 

Xxx

 

Crowley was standing at the big window in his living room, watching the awakening city.

It was almost seven in the morning.

His mother hadn’t come over last night, nor sent a new message to explain her delay.

He was not surprised that she didn’t care enough to update him. 

It was not the first time she proved to be completely inconsiderate.

However, this time it felt different.

When he prepared the guest room for her, like he always did, he had to change the bed linen.

Crowley had postponed that moment for the whole week, lying down a bit to feel Robert’s scent before going to sleep, Sunday night (while they exchanged good night texts), and then giving up entirely and sleeping there the next nights.

He didn’t have a single flashback since then.

However, thanks to her message, he was forced to change the sheets, and now that she hadn’t showed, he felt robbed of the last of Robert’s physical traces that still lingered in his home.

Crowley moved his shoulders to take away some of the tension.

This discomfort was not the almost pleasurable thing he had on his neck after being Robert’s mattress; it was the bothering feeling of rigid muscles that happened when he was nervous and frustrated like he was now.

He remembered the last time his mother came to stay with him: four days of derisive comments on his boring life style; four days of off-handed remarks that intended to rewrite some of the worst episodes of his childhood; four days of her constant self-praising through obviously embellished anecdotes. 

He remembered coming home that afternoon with plans of taking her out for some expensive dinner. She liked to dress fancy (they were similar in a lot of things) and he even had rehearsed mentally how he would make the invitation without sounding like he was doing it as an obligation.

(Not that she cared if she was intruding or messing with his daily life. It was that he wanted her to know that he was doing it with the sole purpose of having a good time with each other, like the normal mother and son they never were.) 

He remembered her reaction when they accidentally crossed paths in the lobby of his building. 

She had her bags with her, and she managed to compose herself enough to make an obviously fake giddy face and say it was lucky he had come home early, so they could see each other before she left. 

And then she patted his arm and went away.

He stayed there, watching her exit his building and enter a taxi, his mind reeling at the fact that he was not home early – she just hasn’t even paid attention enough to know his routine. 

She cared even less than he had imagined.

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

He had ditched Robert and his invitation to meet his boys for this sorry excuse of a family that-

His eyes snapped open in realization.

Robert had said Castiel could be considered family.

He considered his adopted boys, family.

‘Because family don’t end with blood’, he said out loud, as if he needed to hear the words to finally get their meaning.

Of course, it was just a first visit, but things had to start at some point. Crowley had opened the doors of his apartment, and Bobby’s answer was-

Oh, dear.

Bobby had invited him to be part of his family.

Taking a life changing decision, the Head of Hell’s Bells' Human Resources turned off his cell phone and ran to his bedroom to finish the small bag he had been preparing through the whole week.

Good thing he didn’t have the heart to undo it.


	10. Weekend at Bobby's - Part 1

It took Crowley some hours in a taxi (whose driver was more than happy to be generously paid for such an unusually long trip) and three stops to ask for directions after arriving in Sioux Falls, but he finally found Singer’s Salvage Yard.

Maybe the difficulties were related to the fact that nowadays it was called Singer & Winchester Mechanic and Salvage Yard, and people tended to recognize it more as ‘Dean Winchester’s place’, once Bobby was not the head – not even an active participant, to be sincere – of the business for years.

Now, standing by himself in front of the open gates with a bag on his shoulder and wearing one of his black suits, Crowley understood why Robert could feel uncertain about his reaction.

This was completely different from their usual surroundings. 

He usually saw Robert in suits or, at least, ensembles that showed an effort to be business-like. Here, in this rustic and rusty environment, Crowley saw confirmed his suspicions that the man must have spent his whole life wearing jeans, plaid and a truck driver’s cap. 

Yes, it could bother him. 

He was almost regretting the chosen black suit – he had wanted to make a good first impression, but the thing was not exactly in its prime condition after so many hours in a car and exposed to the dusty roads.

Yes, it could bother him.

However, the differences between them just made him curious and more interested.

He was wondering how someone so well-read and level headed as Robert had blossomed in such a place, and then realized he had survived and grown up to be a reasonably well succeed adult despite his upbringing, too.

Maybe they had even more in common than what could be anticipated based on their similar interests.

Crowley walked the distance between the front gates and the house with no hurry, stopping to observe the cars scattered around, approaching to watch closely a detail or another that called his attention.

He felt like immersing in this other universe that had surrounded Robert for most of his life.

For all logical reasons, he should be feeling out-of-place and troubled, but there he was, amused: the sturdy and big house, the piles of old cars, the whole organization of the space – everything spoke of the down-to-earth approach, the gusto for routine but availability for challenges and the difficulties to get rid of anything.

Exactly the features Crowley was used to see in his main assistant every day.

It was comforting to see those features had been always there.

He saw an open shed nearby, and remembered vaguely something about John Winchester having an Impala that Dean inherited and took care of obsessively. 

Once the car was not there, he wondered if there was anyone currently home.

He wouldn’t exactly mind to wander around unassisted, if that was the case. The yard was huge and there was a lot of things to see. Even the exercise to find out what was Bobby’s doing and what was Dean’s would be entertaining. 

He decided to knock on the house’s door to make sure he was by himself before he fussed around; so, he stepped on the front area with that in mind, but turned and took a good look around.

He tried to imagine how it must feel to live there and see that scenery every day.

It was not cheery, but it was not depressing. 

It felt like a fortress, in fact.

Crowley could appreciate a place that made you feel protected but was spread enough to permit movement; a place with huge gates that gave access to the world outside, in case you wanted to take a stroll, but that signaled clearly the boundaries for any outsiders.

He smiled at how ‘Robert’ it was.

And then he shook his head, because he was so obviously smitten that it was kind of ridiculous. 

Crowley breathed deeply to summon all the courage he had, turned again, walked to the front door of the house and lifted his hand to knock.

He had barely touched the door once and it was opened by the tallest guy he had ever seen.

It was like being face to face with a moose wearing jeans and plaid.

(A moose who had probably been watching him for the whole time, by the way.)

Crowley blinked at the immense creature and ventured, ‘Good afternoon. I’m Roderick Crowley. I’m here for-’

‘You’re Bobby’s boss?’

‘Yes’, he relaxed a bit at the welcoming tone, and smiled tentatively, ‘I’m Robert’s boss. But I’m here as a friend. I didn’t come all this way to bring any extra work’.

The giant smiled back, ‘I guessed so’, he opened the door wider, ‘Come in. He’s buying lunch with Dean and Charlie. They’ll be back soon’.

Crowley thanked him and entered.

A first look around made him open his mouth in something that was surprise but wasn’t.

The living room had shelves filled with books from the floor to the ceiling.

‘The books are Bobby’s’, the tall guy said, ‘Dean has been living here by himself, but he decided things should stay like they always were’.

Crowley nodded, wondering if the oldest Winchester was one of those people who dealt with loss keeping objects of the departed ones. It surely explained the obsession for the Impala, and not changing anything even after Bobby was gone for months.

Deciding it was a subject for further analysis later, Crowley turned fully to the young man, ‘You must be Sam, then’, he offered a smile, ‘The Stamford boy’.

‘Yeah’, he beamed proudly, ‘I’m-Watch out!’

It was too late.

A huge Belgian Sheppard had jumped joyfully on the visitor.

Crowley managed not to fall, but he had now two big dusty marks of paws on his shirt.

‘I’m sorry!’, Sam reached out for the dog’s collar, ‘We were playing backside and I just forgot him. He gets excited when I come over, and-’

‘That’s all right’, Crowley reassured, hands tentatively patting the excited beast’s head, ‘I love dogs myself’.

‘Really?’

‘Sure. What’s his name?’

Sam let go of the collar, ‘Rufus’.

‘Hello, boy’, Crowley greeted the dog more confidently, but then made a face, ‘Robert mentioned having a friend called that’, he ruffed behind the dog’s ears and gained some affectionate licks in return, ‘I hope he didn’t mean this chap, here, or I have got everything very wrong’.

Sam laughed, ‘No, no. Rufus was a big friend. A human friend. He died in a hunting accident, and Bobby named the dog after him’.

‘Oh’, Crowley contemplated the animal with a tender stare, ‘That’s very sweet’.

‘Bobby is a great guy’.

‘He is the best man I ever met’.

Sam raised his brows.

Crowley made a point of not looking away.

An understanding passed between them.

Sam relaxed and offered, ‘What do you think we sit outside? They’ll be here any moment, now. Dean is not picky with food…’

‘And Charlie goes for almost anything’, Crowley said and they shared another understanding, ‘Once Robert finds the salad for you two, everything will be settled’.

Now Sam grinned at the man showing off how much he knew about them, ‘You can leave your bag here’, he pointed at an old sofa, then got a ball from the floor, ‘I’ll take this. Rufus already loves you, so you can join us to play, if you want’.

‘I’m not running after a ball, Winchester, no matter how much I want you to approve of me’.

Sam laughed, ‘That would be a scene’, he went for the door, but halted, ‘Want a beer?’

 

Xxx

 

Crowley didn’t accept the beer, much less the subsequent offer of whisky.

He settled for a glass of water.

Things were going smoothly, but his mouth was dry and his nerves, still wrecked.

For the time being, he installed himself in a chair on the porch, watching Sam throw the ball to the dog and then pick his phone to call Charlie and tell people they had a guest.

The giant had a smile on his face for the whole call, obviously hearing some very excited exclamations from the other side of the line.

When the call was over, he turned to the visitor, ‘We’re having pasta’, and threw the ball again. At Crowley’s happy nod at the choice of meal, he added, ‘Charlie said you should take a look at your phone’.

‘Bollocks!’, Crowley picked it from his coat hurriedly, ‘Completely forgot to turn it on!’

He did it and was shocked by the number of messages and missed calls from Bobby.

‘He has been trying to reach you the whole morning’, Sam explained, sitting on the porch’s floor. Rufus, after drinking some water, decided to lie besides him, by Crowley’s feet, and offer his belly to be scratched, ‘Taking him to town was my idea of a distraction before he stole his own truck and drove back to check on you’.

Crowley was still looking at the screen of his phone, frowning.

Rufus nudged him with one paw.

He put the phone in his pocket and leaned to indulge the dog, the thoughtful expression still on his face.

Sam watched the exchange and decided that the man – who petted a demanding dog without a second thought – deserved honesty, ‘Bobby talks a lot about you. When you accepted coming over with him and Charlie, he called me and warned me to not mess it up’, he smiled, ‘I called Dean and he had done the same to him. It’s funny, you know, because Bobby didn’t know exactly what he wanted from us. He just needed to say it mattered that you felt welcomed’.

Crowley raised his eyes to him, ‘Thank you for telling me’.

‘So, get this’, Sam turned completely to him, ‘Bobby is like a father for me and Dean. He never brought anyone for us to meet, before, what means he is serious about you’, he smiled at Crowley’s wide eyes, ‘We want what it’s best for him, and… Well, Dean plays bad cop, usually. So, maybe you’ll hear it from my brother in another tone’, he chuckled at the even wider eyes, then pointed at Rufus, who was diligently watching them, ‘Don’t worry. Until now you’re a success’. 

‘Well, let’s invest on that, then’, Crowley extended his hand for the ball and Sam gave it to him.

 

Xxx

 

When the distinctive sound of a muscle car’s engine was heard, the three of them stopped playing and perked their ears.

The Impala had barely parked and Bobby was already opening the door and jumping off.

He ran to Crowley and enveloped him in his arms.

‘You came’, was all he said.

The words were a few and muffled against his hair, but they conveyed everything Crowley needed to know.

He didn’t even manage an answer. All he could do was pull Bobby to him the closest he could, immensely relieved to be with him again.

The situation was already a basket full of feelings, with all the missing and the worries and the ‘meeting the family’ thing; to top it all, Crowley had taken off his coat, loosened his tie and folded his sleeves (because playing with the dog and the moose had made him feel hot), it was the first time he saw Bobby using plaid and jeans (and the cap!), the many layers of clothes that usually separated them were not there and, well, they had kissed almost chastely and both wanted more.

They were entitled to cling to each other and be emotional.

‘Hey, Captain’, Charlie called out when they lingered in each other’s arms, ‘Not in front of the Klingons!’ 

They parted, gazed into each other’s eyes, and then Bobby turned to the rest of the group, an arm securely around Crowley’s back in a brand new gesture that was intimate and protective and just the right side of possessive.

(Crowley loved it.)

Bobby was kind of embarrassed by his outburst but, most of all, he was ecstatic while taking his cap off and making a gesture of introduction, ‘People, this is Crowley. Crowley, you know Charlie, and have met Sam…’

‘Yes, I do and yes, I have’, Crowley agreed, nodding at the mentioned people, ‘And let’s not forget Rufus, too’.

‘He is the best, isn’t he?’, Bobby grinned happily at the dog, who was glued to his side.

‘Hey!’, Charlie and Sam protested in mock offense.

Bobby grinned fondly at them and resumed the introductions, ‘And this is Dean’.

The older Winchester brother approached, extending a hand.

Crowley saw in him everything Robert had said – the imposing presence, the air of self-assurance, the charming smile.

‘Finally’, he gripped Crowley’s hand firmly, ‘We’ve got to meet the guy Bobby has been talking about’, he let go of the hand, ‘Cas gave me some info on you’.

Sam raised his brows behind his brother, exchanging a knowing look with Crowley.

Bobby pulled Crowley a bit closer, as if making clear he would defend him, if necessary, from Castiel’s opinion. 

‘We have worked together for a while, what means we both are entitled to an opinion about the other’, Crowley said, ‘I expect he was generous’.

‘He was sincere, like he always is’, Dean squinted, ‘I’ll wait and see’.

 

xxx

 

While the younger people (and Rufus) fetched the bags of food and started preparing lunch (Rufus just watching them expectantly, in that case), Bobby pulled Crowley further into the yard for them to talk.

‘You wouldn’t pick your phone’, Bobby said when they reached a secluded place and stopped to face each other, ‘What happened?’

‘Mother was a no-show and I decided I had better places to be’, Crowley put his hands on the pockets of his pants, ‘I turned the phone off as a statement to myself. I was not giving this up; thus, it didn’t matter when or if she as coming, anymore’. 

Bobby nodded, still glancing at him from head to toe as if looking for physical signs of distress.

‘I’m all right, Robert. Believe me’, Crowley stared unwavering – to convey his sincerity and to seize the opportunity to watch the man wearing things that made him look comfortable and attractive in a new way, ‘It took me some time, but I finally realized you had offered something too precious to not be accepted’.

Bobby sighed in relief, taking off his cap, ‘Precious is you, Princess’.

He spoke and smiled so fondly that it was kind of disconcerting.

His eyes were still hovering, though, and Crowley got self-conscious, ‘I intended to arrive here dressed like a gentleman, but the beast wanted attention and it has some high energy levels’, he raised his brows, ‘And I mean the moose’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘Moose?’

‘Yes. Tall, large, with fabulous hair like antlers’.

‘Ah’, the cap was deposited in a nearby chunk of metal, ‘I get it, shorty’.

Crowley scoffed at the pet name, trying to sound indignant and failing.

He was too happy, his heart beating too fast and his whole body too warm under those blue eyes.

‘I appreciate the effort to dress fancy…’, Bobby approached him, ‘…but I’m enjoying this…’

Bobby’s hand reached for the loosened tie, playing with the knot, fingers brushing lightly on the skin under the open button of the shirt, then lowering to take the tie itself and use it to tug it delicately and pull Crowley closer to him.

He smirked at the moan the gesture elicited.

Crowley could barely breathe.

Every gesture that man did was maddening sexy.

‘It’s nice to see you like this’, Bobby spoke lowly, the free hand reaching out to rest in a bare forearm, ‘Now I wish I’d taken you outside more’.

‘Oh, love, you can take me anywhere’.

Crowley spoke and felt the familiar feeling of regret at the blatant offer.

However, before he could be dragged into it, Bobby’s eyes gained a new inflection and his mind came to a halt.

It was lust.

His offer was welcomed.

Crowley gulped down, arousal and affection taking over his mind. 

‘So…’, Bobby licked his lips, ‘Any regrets about being here?’

‘None’.

Crowley licked his lips, too.

It was not a change of subject, and he knew it.

Bobby was making sure they were in the same page before going forward.

‘Of course’, Crowley added with a smile, very proud to have some of his thinking abilities preserved, ‘It helped that I was welcomed by the Fluffy Squad’.

‘My family is adorable’, Bobby stated with a positively cheeky smile, ‘I just surround myself with the greatest people, in fact’.

The hand in the tie let go and went up, caressing the chest, the shoulder, the neck, finding its way to cradle his head, and Crowley closed his eyes in rapture. 

‘But I’m serious’, Bobby leaned closer and whispered, ‘No second guessing?’

The beard brushed lightly against his neck and Crowley shivered, ‘Robert…’

‘Uhm?’

‘I’m too invested in you to regret anything that brings us closer’.

He spoke and parted, opening his eyes to look into Bobby’s.

Darkened with desire.

Crowley raised his hands to Bobby’s chest, ‘What can I say to convince you that there’s no other place I’d rather be but where you are?’ 

‘You don’t have to say anything’, Bobby sighed, ‘Let me find out by myself’.

He leaned in for them to kiss, head tilted, eyelashes lowered.

Crowley met him halfway.

This time no one interrupted.

It started delicate and tender, like their first tentative kiss in the office.

They touched lips, as in greeting.

And then they were able to deepen the contact as much as they wanted – lips parted for their tongues come to play, bodies flushed against each other, hands roaming to mess with hair and grab clothes.

The pent-up desire turned it into a mess of devouring lips and grunts and moans.

At some point they had to hold on each other to keep steady, elegance and grace not possible when they were finally solving some of that tension.

When they parted, they stayed close enough to breathe the same air, blue eyes gazing lovingly into hazel green.

They settled in a comfortable embrace, their bodies fitting into each other.

That easy intimacy made both feel wanted and welcomed.

‘You’re so handsome…’, Bobby traced Crowley’s hairline, then his jaw, with a delicate hand, ‘And you taste so good…’

‘It never felt like this with no one else, beardy’, he leaned in to graze his nose on Bobby’s neck, breathing deeply into him, ‘I didn’t have to touch you to know how perfect it would be, but the real thing has surpassed my fantasies’.

Bobby raised his brows, ‘Fantasies?’

They parted enough to face the other, ‘You are looking at a man who went through months of pining and who has a very active imagination’.

‘I hope you share some of your thoughts with me’, Bobby rested his hands on Crowley’s hips, ‘I’d like to know what you like’, his eyes flickered with uncertainty for a moment, ‘I have a lot to offer, if you’re in’.

Crowley realized there was an unspoken question, there.

‘I’m in for anything you want to give me’, he said, voice hoarse from the emotion of not being ashamed of his desires, ‘You can have me any way you wish’, their eyes locked, ‘That’s what I like’.

‘Damn’, Bobby captured the other man’s lips again, kissing him hard. 

‘Don’t curse, love’, Crowley chuckled when they parted, then moaned at Bobby’s lips on his neck.

‘This mess is on you’, Bobby accused between kisses and nipping, ‘Shouldn’t be so hot all the time’.

‘That’s why you reached out for me first?’

Bobby growled and bit the neck, ‘You can’t prove that’.

Crowley whimpered in arousal and fisted Bobby’s vest, ‘Between the cactus and telling me in multiple occasions that you were not going anywhere, I don’t have enough fingers to count, love’.

‘You could have told me how you felt earlier’, now he sucked at the neck, his tongue licking the pleasurable pain away, just to hear the other man make those desperate sounds again and cling to him, ‘I was thinking of getting a t-shirt with some cheap pick-up line to make sure we were in the same page’.

‘I just couldn’t believe it’.

‘We’re lucky to have Charlie’.

‘Yes, we are’.

‘It’s kind of a miracle that we met’.

Crowley relaxed his hands and used them to caress Bobby’s back, ‘Some higher power provided the twists and turns of Destiny that made you who you are and put you on my way’, he sighed, ‘Whatever entity did it, it has my eternal gratitude’.

‘Same here’, Bobby whispered and parted to gaze into his eyes, ‘Never thought I’d find someone like you’.

Crowley gasped, and Bobby pulled him for a new deep kiss.

They had been so enthusiastic about exploring each other’s mouth – bold and thrusting tongues, then some sweet pecks, bites on lower lips and approving moans and chuckles – that a person had to clear their throat very loudly for their bubble of intimacy to be broken. 

Thank God, it was Charlie.

(Well, thanks the Goddess, because Dean wanted to be the one to call them, and then Sam offered, and she had to use her argumentative skills and queen’s attitude to convince them that she should do it, once she was not cooking anyway and she was used to their, well, interactions.

She had wondered if she was going to preserve the brothers from seeing their surrogate father making out with a partner or if she was overreacting.

She ended up preventing an unnecessary awkward family moment.)

They parted and turned to her – Bobby reaching out for his cap and burying it in his head, Crowley fussing with Bobby’s clothes to straighten them the best he could, Bobby looking at Crowley as if deciding what to do for him and then giving up at the content grin he was offered.

Charlie almost jumped in joy, ‘You are adorable!’

Bobby reddened and was going to say something about it, but his eyes fell on the cellphone in her hand, ‘You didn’t…?’, he raised a brow, ‘Did you?’

‘Uhm?’, she made an innocent face, joining her hands, phone and all, in her back, ‘I came to ask if you two want to have a word on the sauce’.

It took Crowley a moment to get what was happening.

But when he did, he giggled.

‘See?’, Charlie said, ‘He doesn’t mind!’

Bobby made his grouchiest face at her, ‘Why did you take a picture?’ 

‘Why did you have to use tongue?’, Crowley asked him, ‘It gave her time to get the camera’.

‘Really?’, Bobby looked at him, indignant, ‘You’re siding with her?’

‘I’m a fangirl’, Charlie pouted, ‘What was I expected to do?’

‘Let her be, love’, Crowley patted Bobby’s arm, then spoke to Charlie with his businesslike attitude, ‘I want that shot. I’ll use it as my screensaver’, he held Bobby’s hand and glanced lovingly at him, ‘Forever’.

‘Idjit’, Bobby growled, visibly touched, then saw Charlie taking another shot of them, ‘Hey!’

Crowley leaned in, the movement made Bobby look at him, and Charlie managed a pretty image of them together.

‘I feel like that French guys who stick to the romantic spots in Paris to register the couples’, she looked at the screen and grinned, ‘Awesome!’

‘I want that one, too’.

‘Sure, boss!’.

Giving up any notion of criticizing them, Bobby kissed Crowley’s cheek and started pulling him by the hand, ‘Let’s see that sauce’.

They joined Charlie, and Team Unicorn fell into the same step towards the house.

Crowley stage-whispered at his Secretary, ‘For someone who cares so much about visual registers, you neglected telling me the Winchesters were two male models’.

‘I told you I had images’, Charlie answered in the same tone, ‘You said you didn’t want spoilers!’

‘Oh, well, I foresaw some very engaging young men in what regards personality, given their incredibly charming surrogate father, but the looks? Astounding!’

‘I consider them my brothers. If you wanted to have an opinion on how handsome they are, you should have seen them with your own eyes’.

‘Now I have’, Crowley shrugged, then smirked, ‘The moose and the squirrel’.

‘Oh’, Charlie’s eyes went large, ‘I’ve called them Rocket and Groot, but that makes a lot of sense…’

‘You two’, Bobby cut the conversation off, trying to sound angry and not managing even a bit, ‘Behave’.

‘Of course, love’, Crowley nodded as seriously as he could with the foolish grin plastered on his face, ‘This is going too well. I wouldn’t jeopardize my chances of winning your boys over’.

‘Thank you, honey’, Bobby lifted their joined hands to kiss Crowley’s, ‘And you better stop taking pictures or Rufus will have a new chew toy’.


	11. Weekend at Bobby's - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay.

Lunch started as a relatively tame affair, with everybody being nice and polite, serving themselves and helping the others with pasta and beer and wine.

An air of familiarity took the five people (and the dog, as usual for such loving animals), and conversation started flowing.

The first subjects focused mostly on local folk. Dean would give the updates, and sometimes Charlie would know the person and help Crowley to follow the story, providing the needed context; however, in most cases she had no idea what Bobby and the boys were talking about, so she joined Crowley in the task of making pointedly baffled faces and asking for juicier details. 

Sheriff Jody Mills was mentioned so often and so fondly that Sam had to stop eating (Dean refused to do it) and call her to ask what she would be doing in the afternoon. 

She would be working at the Station, but made Bobby promise to take Crowley to meet her.

Sam and Dean’s shenanigans through the years turned out to be the main topic of conversation, with Bobby very, very present through the boy’s adventures, making clear he had been the father figure, reference and safe harbor they needed when their own was not present.

They reminisced on ghost hunting in abandoned buildings; of breaking and entering empty houses; of spending whole days engrossed in books or watching scary movies; of their love for sports – Dean being quite in boxing and Sam, in gymnastics in general; of their long road trips, where Bobby taught both of them how to drive safe but not be afraid of talking the wheel.

Crowley followed every story eagerly.

Some brand new feelings started surfacing.

The more he knew about Bobby, the more there was to love in him. Every little detail of every story showed a brilliant and generous person. The Winchesters made clear they missed their adoptive father, but both were grown-ups, now – and Sam and Dean were very open to tell Crowley the specifics on their current spots in life as the prodigy lawyer and the mechanic/car restorer genius, respectively; so, even if Bobby still worried about them, he trusted them enough to be able to fend for themselves.

The message was clear: Bobby deserved the best partner, and his sons would not be ashamed to keep a watchful eye on the current candidate to the position.

Crowley wanted to prove himself to be worth the man.

To his own surprise, he was not afraid of not being able to. 

The strange feelings taking him were not related to fear – not even the fear in the familiar form of anxiety he was used to; it was an urge to open himself and show those people what he was made of. 

Everybody was in a high mood, sharing the most engaging anecdotes, and then there was a silence, and a shift in the conversation: the boys told Crowley the convoluted tale about how they had met Charlie.

It involved her abilities with IT not always taken as a gift by employers, what ended up with them crossing paths as young adults and bonding over what they vaguely called (and refused explaining further) ‘good-will hacking’.

She was visibly touched by their tenderness towards her, and seeing that her watery smile made Crowley worry, she explained that she had lost her parents in a car accident and that she just felt like she had a family again when she met Bobby, Sam and Dean.

She told him of the courage to turn off the machines that kept her mother alive and moving on, and Crowley felt like he was slapped on the face.

Everyone had their own things to deal with, even the ever-soft unicorns.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that we all have very fragile minds.

However, it was essential never forget that we all have very bright souls. 

Maybe it was his sudden realization of how self-centered he had been about Charlie; maybe it was Dean’s comment on people being lucky to have family when things went downhill (and they always went, one way or the other); maybe it was his eagerness to show he deserved to be included in that family.

The fact was that Crowley wished to share, too.

So, he spoke of his ‘witch of a mother’ who would leave him in orphanages and then pick him up when she felt like that, turning his entire childhood in a game of guessing what he had done wrong to be left behind again, and wondering if he would ever get a new chance to make up for whatever it was.

(Everybody in the room sympathized with harsh childhoods. In fact, they all had turned orphans at young ages – through the death of a parent or both, or through rejection, what was not less painful.) 

Charlie already knew about that part of his life, from the research she had done when he threw hints for her to find out by her own hacking and researching means.

Bobby knew it because Crowley had told him.

And, still, seeing him telling the story to some guys he had just met made his friends proud of him.

It showed on their faces, and he felt cherished like he rarely did.

Well, those boys had been raised in a Five Questions basis – so, next thing that happened was Sam asking how a guy raised in orphanages in Scotland could have turned to be a successful businessman in America, and it was the perfect clue for Crowley to speak of the rich old lady who appeared out of nowhere and adopted him when he was twelve. 

To everybody’s deep interest (and wide eyes from Charlie and Bobby, because that was brand new info), he described his strict upbringing, in a big and cold mansion, with a few selected servants and the ever present notion that it was expected he turned into the perfect and sensible gentleman. 

He told of everybody’s obsession with restraint, etiquette and manners in general.

He spoke of the old lady’s insistence that he married a certain local girl, and of the fact that he obeyed, partly in gratitude, partly because he could not see a way out of the script ready for him to follow.

He spoke superficially of the dull years that followed – just enough to convey how he resignedly settled with his wife in the big mansion, how they dealt badly with her difficulties to get pregnant, how their already fragile relationship turned slowly and steadly unbearable.

He spoke of her finally getting pregnant and of the fresh air it seemed to bring in the house.

He spoke of her having the baby and then closing in herself and spiraling into something he just recognized as depression in retrospect.

He mentioned the car accident that killed his wife and his son when the boy was four.

He spoke of the old rich lady’s death, some months later, consumed by some pain and sorrow that he didn’t think she was capable of, and of her will, in which it was revealed that he was her single heir (not a surprise) and that she was his grand-grandmother by blood, who hoped to have saved him from the ‘immoral ways’ of his mother (her grand-daughter).

And then he spoke of his decision to move to London, how it didn’t really help with the bad memories – something to which everybody in the room could, again, sympathize –, of the idea to come to the United States, and of accepting a sideways position in Hell’s Bells under Lilith in hopes of getting an opportunity in the company.

There was a new silence, in which everybody was dealing with the things that were told.

When it stretched, Crowley resumed speaking, ‘For many years working there didn’t seem like a brilliant move…’, he sipped from the glass of wine in his hand, ‘…for I was subjected to some very humiliating situations – which I’m not delving into now, in respect to the tasteful meal and great company I’ve been offered’.

He spoke and made a playful toast towards Rufus, who was joyfully sitting between his and Bobby’s chairs.

The dog reacted tilting his head to the side in typical Shepherd manner.

People laughed, relaxing.

Bobby was visibly moved, and he held Crowley’s free hand in his, on the table.

A loud sniff sounded in the room.

‘Don’t you dare bail your eyes out’, Crowley told Charlie, ‘Everybody is being elegant about me taking this all off my chest and you’re ruining the moment’.

‘Sorry, boss’, she said, ‘It was sad, and then it got sadder, and it had a plot twist, and then Bobby took your hand’, she gestured to the dog, ‘And Rufus tilted his head… It was too much!’

The dog, hearing his name, dutifully got up and jumped to put his front paws on her lap.

Sam was beaming at the scene, and reached out to pat Rufus’ head while Dean approached enough to circle Charlie’s shoulders with his arm, pull her to him and kiss her temple soothingly.

When she was calmer, Dean let go and pointed at Crowley with his beer, ‘You said it seemed a bad idea to get in Hell’s Bells. It doesn’t, anymore?’

‘The position there granted me the opportunity to meet Charlie, who is a very distinguished young person…’, it got him a beam from her, ‘…and, through her, I met Robert, who I don’t think I must say is an awesome man – you three have told enough stories to fill an entire book on how incredible he is’, Crowley smiled at the man besides him, who had reddened, ‘It’s time to recognize Fate finally decided to be nice to me’. 

Dean nodded in understanding and sipped his beer.

Sam was intrigued, ‘Did your mother visit after your grand-grandma adopted you?’

‘Never’, Crowley answered, Bobby’s hand firmly in his making him feel all warm, ‘In fact, she just showed her face again after I have settled as a relatively successful businessman’.

‘Working in Hells’ Bells?’, Sam asked.

‘No. With Naomi, in Pearly Gates. My name was in the news once, and next morning the witch was making a scene at the main desk of the building, demanding to see me’.

‘That’s when you knew Cas?’

The one to ask was the younger brother, but the older sat straighter in his chair, and Crowley had to control a smile, because few things were less straight than such sign of interest.

‘Yes, but he barely paid attention to me at the time. I was there temporarily and had strong bonds with The Adversary. Not his type’. 

Dean lowered his eyes, slightly embarrassed by the innuendo.

‘You know about Alastair, don’t you?’

It was Sam, again.

Crowley didn’t manage an immediate reaction. It felt strange to hear that name in such an amenable environment, and after his bold joke.

He schooled his features to nonchalance, ‘If you mean the investigations, yes’.

‘I mean my firm’s involvement and Castiel’s interest in the case’.

Crowley breathed out, realizing the subject had nothing to do with his unfortunately close and personal experiences with that disgusting man, ‘I know they exist, but I’m not aware of the details’.

‘There’s reason to believe our father was right and someone is to be blamed by our mother’s death’.

Bobby, Charlie and Crowley frowned at Sam.

‘Twelve houses were consumed by fire through the area where we lived. The same corporation sold material for every one of them’, the lawyer explained, ‘It seems they sold some electrical stuff and delivered another, much cheaper and unsafe, and then were able to keep it all under the radar through a complex net of bribes and corruption’. 

Charlie was shocked, ‘You mean that, in order to gain money, they risked innocent lives saving in material’s quality, and then spent money on bribes?’, at Sam’s nod, she closed her eyes in disgust, then opened them again to look at Crowley, ‘Not a surprise, then, that the business has been on edge of bankrupting for years. They were being terrible at everything way back either of us was there’.

‘Those crimes are too much in the past, but they were a good start for the investigation upon Hell’s Bells activities’, Sam sat back on his chair and sighed, ‘We began there and found everything you can think of, from drug traffic to tax evasion. We have enough to put Alastair and Azazel behind bars for a long time’.

‘Just the two of them?’, Bobby asked, ‘By what you say, the whole family could be acting together’.

‘Lucifer was the head, and he is already in jail’, Sam clarified, ‘Alistair and Azazel are the ones doing all the dirty business’. 

Crowley nodded, ‘The rest of the family is probably just pretending not to notice something is rotten’.

The room went into heavy silence for some moments.

‘John Winchester was right, then’, Bobby’s voice was shaken when he spoke, ‘There were monsters behind your mom’s death’.

‘Yeah’, Dean agreed, his calm and cold demeanor showing he already knew the facts Sam was revealing, ‘His only mistake was to think monsters could not be humans’. 

Crowley entwined his fingers with Bobby’s, ‘You have no idea how relieved I am to know they are going to be arrested’, he spoke to both the brothers, ‘Thank you for all you have done. You are heroes, boys’.

Sam and Dean both opened their mouths to deny to be so involved with the investigation that they deserved to be thanked for its outcome; however, a glance at Crowley, Bobby and Charlie showed everybody had already realized they had been very, very involved with the investigation and its outcome.

So, they exchanged a look and agreed silently to leave things as they were, nodding in acceptance that they were, yes, heroes.

Charlie picked up her wine and raised it for a toast, ‘To the Winchesters! John and Mary, Sam and Dean, and everybody they have salved or avenged!’ 

The boys grinned and everybody raised their drinks respectfully, ‘To the Winchesters’.

 

Xxx

 

Bobby took Crowley for a ride around town in the afternoon.

Sheriff Mills was at the Station, so she just got outside time enough to meet ‘the guy who is taking Bobby away’ and exchange some words with her favorite old trouble-maker.

 

Xxx

 

‘I just realized something, Robert’, Crowley said when they entered the truck again, back from a visit to the public library, where they went after the nice conversation at the Station door, ‘Sheriff Mills seemed to know a lot about me’.

‘She is Police’, Bobby shrugged, ‘Access to every file and report in America helps’.

‘Are you implying she may have made research on my humble person?’

‘She may’, Bobby raised a playful brow, ‘Worried?’

‘No. I’m clean. I just can’t decide if I feel offended, alarmed or flattered’.

‘Well, we are friends and she told you to be a good boy’, he smiled, ‘I’d go for ‘warned’’.

‘Hi, Bobby!’

The man almost jumped, startled, and stared wide-eyed at the woman standing by the window truck, hand on his forearm, huge grin on her face.

When he recovered enough to greet her, what came out was, ‘Hey, Marcy. This is Roderick Crowley, my partner’.

There was a beat, then her eyes went to Crowley with mild interest, and she offered a gentle smile, ‘Nice to meet you, Mister Crowley’, she acknowledged his nod and focused on Bobby again, ‘Is he an investor of some sort?’, her smile turned sweet, ‘You’re missed, Bobby’, her fingers spread a bit further on his forearm, ‘It would be the greatest news if you were to come back to town’.

‘What? No’, blue eyes were even wider, ‘Not that kind of partner’.

Marcy made a very confused face, eyes going again to Crowley, then to Bobby, ‘No?’

‘Robert, love, we still have some rounds to do. If you’ll excuse us, Miss Congeniality, we’re going’.

The woman blinked and stared at them as if not getting what had been said.

‘Yeah. We gotta go. Came to introduce him and spend time with my boys, you know’, Bobby explained and offered her an apologetic smile while lifting her hand delicately from his arm, ‘Nice to see you again, Marcy’.

The woman was so shocked she didn’t answer, and Bobby pulled off, watching through the review mirror the figure frozen on the sidewalk.

There was silence in the car for some time. 

Bobby spoke, some blocks later, ‘I’d like to know what came over you’, he pulled the cap to cover his eyes, showing he was bothered, ‘I could go without the fit, even if it’s nice to see you confident enough to… You know…’

‘To pee on you and mark my territory?’, Crowley shook his head, ‘I’m sorry, Robert. That was unnecessary and rude on my part’.

He sounded sincerely repentant.

‘Well, I don’t know what to do of it’, Bobby answered with no heat, ‘You didn’t have to be so nasty. She didn’t realize we’re together, but it’s kind of expected. We flirted, some years ago, and folk don’t think a guy could like men and women’.

Crowley threw a glance at Bobby and made a small strangled sound that didn’t count exactly as an answer.

‘Just tell me why you acted like an ass’, Bobby pressed on gently, ‘It’s not like you’, he nudged, ‘You can be nasty, but the demonic thing in your eyes was new’.

Bobby spoke and waited, now and then glancing at the man by his side to see if he still had that small smile on his lips.

Finally, Crowley spoke, ‘She assumed you were available and went for it’, he said, looking ahead, ‘And suddenly I was certain you would realize things could be a lot easier for you’.

‘Easier?’

‘Getting back here. Being close to Dean, to your books, your dog, your yard, your friends. Having a nice wife who cooks and bakes…’, he kept looking ahead at the street, now with his jaw clenched, ‘This thing we have is a nuisance to you. I panicked’, he squared his jaw, uncomfortable, ‘I should be grateful that you’re trying, but-’

‘Right, that’s enough’, Bobby cut him off, ‘I get it’.

That made Crowley look at him.

Bobby’s hands were gripping the wheel with white knuckles, ‘First of all, if I wanted Marcy I’d have hit that years ago. I didn’t then, and I wouldn’t now’, he glowered at the road, ‘Second, you don’t have to be grateful. That’s what you heard from your mother – that you don’t deserve to be loved and should accept whatever is given to you’, he huffed and threw a glance at the other man, ‘We talked about it, remember?’

The glance revealed that Crowley was recoiled in the seat, tense. 

Bobby sighed and maneuvered the truck to occupy the closest parking spot.

Luckily, it was middle of the afternoon and the street where they were, almost empty.

Bobby turned off the engine and adjusted himself to face Crowley, who made a visible effort to relax a bit.

‘I’ve been dreaming of you for a while. I really want you’, Bobby said, ‘You believe me, don’t you?’ 

‘Yes, I believe you. Rationally, I see everything you've been doing as proof that we are together in this. However…’, the Scot breathed deeply, ‘You are right. I still have a small voice in my head that says I don’t deserve you and should give you a way out whenever an opportunity arrives’. 

‘Crowley’, Bobby munched on the words for some moments, eyes firmly set on the other man’s, ‘Now that we’ve settled things I’m the one not giving you a way out’.

‘Giving me a-Pardon?’

‘You’ve seen how much of a redneck I am. You’re probably regretting coming here’.

‘Regret-Pardon, again?’

‘You’re trying to use the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ excuse, but I know better. I’ve brought you here to see the place. I knew the danger, but you deserved to know where I come from’, Bobby went on ranting, a vague gesture towards the empty street, ‘You’ve shared things you didn’t need to share. You’ve gone through a lot. You may be the one realizing you deserve better than an old grumpy guy, after all that’, his eyes went back firmly to Crowley’s, ‘But now I want you too much. You make me feel things that are worth fighting for – and I’ll fight, even against your own stupidity’. 

Crowley blinked, head tilted to the side, mouth slightly open, ‘I’ll never, ever, leave you, if the choice is mine. I surely would never make up excuses for it’, he shook his head, ‘I think I should be offended’.

‘You?’, Bobby scoffed, ‘If you’re not trying to get rid of me nicely, the only other option left is that you had a jealousy fit over some random neighbor…’

‘She accosted you’.

‘And that should mean anything because…?’

‘You’re the most handsome and brilliant man in God-only-knows the radius. I’m head over heels for you – why wouldn’t she be?’

‘That’s not the point’, Bobby squinted, ‘You’re not stupid. You know what it means that I introduced you to my boys…’

‘And told them we would be sharing a bed’, Crowley pointed out, ‘And guaranteed the Sheriff I am well-mannered and the ultimate good boy’.

‘How do you know I was not talking about Rufus?’

‘Moron’.

‘Idjit’.

Both were caught by surprise at the affection in what should have been insults.

They grinned foolishly and leaned in for a tender kiss.

‘Thank you, Robert’, Crowley said when they parted, ‘You’re awfully patient with me’.

‘You deserve it, Princess’, Bobby took Crowley’s, hand to kiss it, ‘But don’t go panicking at the first person who makes dovey eyes at me’, he squinted, ‘I’m not that easy’, he smiled, ‘And I’ve picked you’.

Crowley was open mouthed at the teasing glint in Bobby’s eyes.

‘You win again, Singer. I was not thinking’, he finally said, rubbing his eyes in a mix of tiredness and relief.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Oh, yes. It’s refreshing to have someone who takes the short route to solve any problem, instead of throwing tantrums or looking for whom to blame’.

Bobby smirked, turning on the truck, ‘I’m not one to sit stewing in my own juices’.

‘Even if you’re quite juicy, in my opinion’.

‘Right’, instead of putting the truck in movement, Bobby turned to Crowley again, as if decided to open a new topic, reached out and palmed his thigh possessively, ‘You know what? That was kind of hot’.

‘What?’

‘You taking control’, Bobby licked his lips, ‘Being territorial’, his cheeks flushed, ‘I had never been claimed like that…’, he reddened, took off the hand and turned forward, finally pulling off, ‘Jesus. What am I saying?’

Crowley adjusted himself in his pants, ‘I fight my inner demons quite often. You saying they arouse you is not helping my spiritual evolution’.

‘You do things to me. Everything about you. I’m not lying about it’.

‘You better refrain from being so sexy yourself, darling’.

‘Or?’

‘Or I’ll demand you to park this bloody truck in the first secluded place we can find, so I can show you what a mouthy little guy I can be when provoked’.

‘Well, thanks a lot’, Bobby grunted, ‘Now I need some time to cool off before getting back to the yard’.

‘Serves you good for abusing me for my small but devilishly charming misbehaviors’.

They snarled at each other, what made Crowley let out one of his rare heartfelt laughs, and extracted a fond smile from Bobby. 

They fell into a comfortable conversation, punctuated by Bobby pointing at familiar spots and telling about them.

When they left the center of the town, Crowley sighed, ‘I’ll have you to know that I quite like Sioux Falls, Robert’.

‘You do?’

‘Uhum. Even the bigotry is entertaining’, he looked at Bobby, ‘I can see us fighting it in everyday life’, he gave a positively evil smile, with squinted eyes and no teeth showing, ‘Leaving good-mannered middle-aged women petrified while we pass by’.

Bobby turned his head to stare at him, surprised, ‘Don’t get me wrong, but sometimes you remind me a lot of Rufus’.

‘I hope it’s not the dog, because right now I was going for some very human peskiness, here, not a fluffy ball of goodness’.

‘No’, Bobby’s smile saddened a bit, ‘Not the dog’.

Crowley sobered, ‘Sam told me of your friend who died in a hunting accident’.

‘Yeah’.

‘You were there, weren’t you?’

Bobby nodded, ‘Died in my arms’, he adjusted the cap, ‘Still feel like it’s my fault’.

‘Sorry to hear it, love – the circumstances and the fact you blame yourself’. 

‘Everybody has their crap to deal with’, he shrugged.

‘Crap is a word and a half’, Crowley bit his lower lip, ‘I hope you can let it go. I’m sure you did your best, and your best is usually mind-blowing’, he offered a gentle smile, ‘If there is an after-life, I bet Rufus is going to have some harsh words to say about any guilt you have carried for his death’.

‘Harsh words were one of his specialties’, Bobby brightened again, fond memories enveloping him, ‘Guy would have laughed out loud at your ‘Miss Congeniality’ thing’.

‘The world is lucky to have the sweet ones like you to balance us, the devilish ones’.

Crowley reached for Bobby’s hand on the gear.

Just a feathery touch of fingertips.

Bobby growled, ‘Stop it’.

‘I’m being tender’, Crowley pouted, ‘It’s not my fault you are a perverted old man’.

‘Perv-I swear to God you’ll regret saying that’.

‘And how do you intend on making me regret it, love?’

Bobby stared intensely at the road in front of him, pondering on how to answer the challenge.

Crowley waited, a fond smile lingering on his lips at the scowl on Bobby’s face.

‘You’re not sleeping, tonight’, he finally said.

Crowley still waited.

Nothing else came.

And then he understood the implications.

He retreated his hand to his lap, adjusted in the pants again and gulped down to find his voice, ‘Maybe we should discuss what it means to be a pervert’.

Bobby smirked, 'We will'.


	12. Weekend at Bobby's - Part 3

After that conversation in the truck (that washed away any doubts about their commitment), and the bold promises that were made, Bobby and Crowley went back to the house still in need of some more time in private. 

So, Bobby explained to Charlie and the boys, in a very sensible and reasonable way, that he had invited Crowley to Sioux Falls with the intention of introducing him to the places where he had lived for all his life, and that it included, obviously, the town and the house, but, mainly, the yard, and that was the reason why the right thing for him to do was to spend the rest of Saturday afternoon there, showing the place to his guest.

Just the two of them.

With no interruptions.

 

Xxx

 

Did Bobby’s asking for privacy have to do with the fact he was still hot and bothered by their conversation?

Sure.

Did the kids need to know that?

Hell, no.

 

Xxx

 

 

The pair proceed to do something that could (even if they would not admit it even under the worst tortures) be positively called ‘frolicking’.

 

Bobby and Crowley strolled side by side, chatting about this and that, reminiscing on the places and people they had visited in town and commenting on the things around them.

There were fond glances and soft touches exchanged.

Things between them were getting on track faster than they could have guessed.

Being together was light and simple. 

They didn’t voice it, but both were equally amused and relieved they could be so at easy with each other after what they had been sharing about themselves for the last hours. The expected outcome had been withdrawal, not the understanding and the acceptance it turned out to be.

It meant they were very similar, and quite ready for their relationship to develop.

 

Xxx

 

They had been so comfortable, in fact, that Bobby was taken by surprise when he realized he couldn’t tell if Crowley was being obvious to the innuendo himself had been throwing or purposely looking obvious while throwing shameless innuendo.

The subject of their conversation had been the cars scattered around the yard – there were many different models and types and levels of conservation; Crowley asked about the kind of jobs and clients Bobby had through the times; and at some point the topic of things that had been done in that yard passed to things that still could be done in that yard, and suddenly it didn’t feel like they were talking about cars and repairs, anymore.

Bobby realized he enjoyed the fact Crowley could conduct a nice chat towards Ambiguous Land so effortlessly. It spoke of a sharp mind – something he found fascinating – and a playful soul – something he should not find so endearing. 

Crowley parted a bit from Bobby to approach a black Bentley. The car was in good state, and it was not a surprise that it caught the visitor’s eye.

While Crowley touched the painting and other external features with his fingertips, commenting on the details, Bobby leaned his back on the car and crossed his arms over his chest.

He was watching Crowley’s hands with its graceful and precise gestures, and wishing they were on him.

He was hearing Crowley’s voice and craving for it to come close to his ear.

He eyes followed the curves of the body some feet away from his, staring at the dark shirt without a tie and with his sleeves folded, that left a bit to the imagination, but mostly hugged the large shoulders and firm chest. 

Crowley stretched a bit to peer through the windows, his pants constricted around his ass and Bobby gulped down a wave of desire and looked away.

‘I know what you’re doing, Robert’.

Bobby looked back at the other man, ‘That’s good, ‘cause I’m not that sure myself’.

Crowley kept on his inspection while speaking, ‘You’ve noticed I’m quite interested in antiques, and decided to offer me a very engaging one’.

He glanced at Bobby to see his reaction, and received an unamused look. 

‘Just kidding’, Crowley smirked, ‘Riled up, love?’

‘Nah’, Bobby shrugged, ‘It’s nice to see you having fun’, his face softened, ‘It’s a good look on you’.

‘Don’t think I’m not moved by that last sentence’, Crowley turned to him, ‘But I’m having a literal hard time dealing with the fact you said you like watching me’.

Bobby squinted, ‘Why do I feel like you just called me a creep?’

‘Far from it’, he ogled Bobby from head to toe, then walked to stand in front of him, eyes into eyes, ‘I would consider it a very happy coincidence’. 

Bobby was taller, but the way Crowley approached, confident and bold, made him feel powerless, ‘Coincidence?’

‘Uhum’, Crowley licked his lips, ‘I’d love for you to watch me while I do certain things to you’, his eyes darkened, ‘If what I’ve seen until now is any hint, you’ll certainly be an endless source of inspiration for my moves’.

Bobby blinked some times in surprise.

And arousal.

Then he lowered his head to hide the heat on his cheeks under the cap, ‘Jesus’.

‘Aw. You’re like the Cheshire cat’, Crowley leaned his head to meet the shy eyes, ‘I throw some innuendo and you think showing just a bit of you is any less dazzling’, he put a hand under the other’s chin to lift his head a bit, ‘I’ve never met someone so engaging’, he caressed the beard with his fingertips, ‘You’re perfect’.

Blue eyes met his with a new depth, ‘You know it’s not like that’, he took Crowley’s hand to kiss its palm, ‘You told a lot. I didn’t tell everything’.

‘You don’t have to’, Crowley entwined their fingers, ‘Besides the heavenly looks you go around showing off annoyingly …’, he smiled, and Bobby rolled his eyes, ‘It’s quite obvious you have your heart in the right place’, Crowley got serious, ‘And that’s a rare combination, in my experience’.

‘About that’, Bobby kept their hands together between them, ‘There’s some crap about me that I wished you knew, but I’m not telling now’, he made a face, ‘Things I can’t talk about, yet’. 

Crowley’s eyes softened in understanding, ‘Same here, love. Don’t worry about it’.

‘You?’, Bobby flinched, ‘There’s more, besides the stuff you already told?’

‘Yes, there’s more’, Crowley averted his eyes, ‘Some recent and not well healed wounds regarding… relationships’, he managed to look back, ‘You’ve been messing with them in the most helping way, for your information’.

‘Right’, Bobby breathed deeply, accepting the statement, ‘We’re together in this’.

‘It takes one guy who carries unfair burdens to recognize another’.

Bobby caressed the hand in his, ‘We’re made of the same stock’.

Crowley opened a grin and approached enough for Bobby to feel cornered, ‘You’re my safe harbor, too, darling’.

‘I didn’t say that’.

Bobby spoke in his grumpy way, and leaned back further against the old car.

This time, however, he took off the cap and put his hands by his sides, facing the other man with no shame or reserve.

Crowley’s eyes shone.

That receptive attitude was the most enticing thing in the world. 

He licked his lips and gave another step forward, the concept of personal space forgotten, ‘Don’t be like that, Robert. I’m just trying to translate this…’, he looked away, not to avert his eyes this time, but in fake effort of looking for the right words, ‘…sensation of…’

He didn’t complete the sentence, because Bobby pulled him by the hips, their middles colliding, and leaned forward enough to brush their noses, ‘I don’t need translating’.

‘It’s just us and the rusty cars, here’, Crowley managed to keep the teasing through the excitement, ‘It’s not a shame accepting my helping hand, needed or not’.

‘Helping hand?’, Bobby chuckled, his arms encircling the other’s waist to keep him close, ‘So, you asked about what I’ve done here because you wanted to do some service yourself?’

‘I’m surely interested in doing things for you’.

‘Yeah?’, Bobby’s lips teased Crowley’s jaw.

‘Oh, yes’, he shivered at the feather touch of beard, ‘You have me for your use and enjoyment’.

‘Funny’, Bobby’s hands moved on Crowley’s back, ‘I feel like you have me – my own soul, someway’.

Those words were so unexpected that Crowley gasped.

One of the hands on his back went up to his nape, then to cradle his head, ‘What’s it, Princess?’, Bobby’s voice was low, ‘Too much for you?’

The offer disguised as challenge took off any control Crowley still had.

He grabbed Bobby by the shirt for them to face, ‘You know if I ever have your soul, I won’t be giving it back, don’t you?’

‘Joke is on you’, Bobby was unfazed, ‘If you keep it, you won’t manage to get rid of me’.

‘That’s the plan’, Crowley closed his eyes and touched Bobby’s lips softly with his, brows furrowing as if the longing hurt him, ‘With you, I’m not afraid to be bare…’, a new touch, ‘…exposed…’, a hint of tongue, ‘I want to mix our essences until we can’t separate, anymore…’

His tentative touches fueled their desire, and Bobby captured his lips hungrily.

Their joining was deep and wet and had every ounce of lust that could be poured into a kiss.

When they parted, Bobby adjusted his pants in a very undignified way, ‘Remember me to not tease you when there is any chance of someone seeing us’.

‘You tease me simply by existing, love…’

Bobby grinned.

He remembered Charlie’s words in a coffee shop in what felt like a long time ago (‘He has this adoring thing all over his face just because you exist in the same room as him’)…

And realized that every time Crowley called him ‘love’ he really meant it.

Bobby blinked, trying to focus on what the man in front of him was saying – something about the many qualities he saw in him –, but the realization that he was loved by that amazing person was overwhelming.

All Bobby could pay attention to were those delicious lips moving, those greenish eyes shining for him – yes, for him –, the already familiar masculine, clean and warm scent that he had started to crave at some point along the way.

They had got close through similar interests and understanding each other’s moods and attitudes, and suddenly the physical traits were just the visible form of what they loved in each other – not just the nice and gentle things, but the nasty and wild or wounded parts of them.

Crowley must have noticed something odd was going on, because he stopped speaking and pouted.

Bobby needed to put in words what he felt, and he needed to do it right then.

‘You demon!’, Bobby exclaimed suddenly, in a tone that made it clear it was endearment, and pulled Crowley harshly for a hug.

Crowley was frozen for some moments, surprised at the interruption in the teasing game, then settled his arms around Bobby and relaxed, ‘What’s that for, darling?’

The hug turned tighter, ‘I love you’.

Crowley forgot how to breathe for several moments.

‘You don’t have to say it back’, Bobby whispered, arms enveloping the shorter man with tenderness, ‘I just had to’.

Crowley’s hands clenched on the back of the plaid shirt, grabbing the cloth.

He was breathing again, in irregular gulps, but enough for him to use his voice.

‘I love you, too’, the words sounded shaken against Bobby’s ear, ‘Like I never thought I would love anyone in this world’. 

 

Xxx

 

The black Bentley, that almost witnessed a shameless make-out session, ended up with two lovebirds holding each other and exchanging deep affectionate declarations.

Did it mean they didn’t want to tear each other’s clothes right then and there?

No. 

Did it mean staying in each other’s arms was as precious and intimate as sex?

Hell, yes.

 

xxx

 

The five of them started the night playing card games and chatting.

(Rufus took a nap on the living room floor, after a day of intense energetic activity with Sam.)

The general mood was a lot lighter than at lunch. It was obvious that Bobby and Crowley’s relationship had developed during the day, it made everyone comfortable and covered everything in a veil of implied trust.

They were between rounds of canasta (it was Charlie and Dean against Bobby and Crowley), when Sam (who had been watching the game and mocking everybody’s abilities just for the sake of making them laugh) mentioned, ‘Cas called earlier. He is coming over tomorrow’.

Everybody immediately looked at Crowley to find out his reaction.

And everybody had to face his unamused glare at them.

He cleared his throat, joined his hands at the table and raised his brows, the image of the businessman, ‘Sunday lunch with a celestial soldier, then?’, at Dean’s hard face, he shrugged, ‘That must prove interesting’.

‘Anything we should know?’, Bobby questioned him, ‘Taboo subjects or whatever?’

‘Not for me’, was the answer, ‘But Castiel is very judgmental’.

‘He is suspicious’, Dean pointed out, handing him the deck, ‘Guy won’t let anyone cross him’.

‘Of course not’, Crowley said with unexpected bitterness, ‘That’s why he goes around making decisions without consulting other people – it’s hard to find someone he considers at his level’, he huffed, ‘The bloody self-satisfied angel’.

‘He is special’, Charlie chimed in while writing down the points of the previous round, ‘Sometimes he is harsh, but you shouldn’t throw stones, boss’.

‘I’m not’, Crowley sighed, ‘We have History, and we both could say some very nasty things about the other’, it was his turn to shuffle, and he focused on the task while speaking, ‘I just hope he is considerate enough to not delve in the past and ruin the familiar mood’. 

‘Wow. Way to make us wonder what happened’, Charlie said, ‘Now I don’t know if I want a peaceful lunch or a soap opera scene’.

Dean grumbled something under his breath.

‘Or we could have something right out of a corny TV series’, Sam smirked, ‘Like Doctor Sexy MD’.

‘Shut your trap’.

Crowley looked at Dean curiously, ‘You watch it?’

Sam laughed.

‘What’s the matter?’, Bobby frowned, ‘It’s a good show’.

Now everybody looked at Bobby, and he reddened, hiding under the cap.

‘You are full of surprises, Robert’, Crowley started giving the cards, ‘Just the other day you were watching Metropolis in my apartment and being an intellectual, and now that’.

‘I love Metropolis!’, Sam sat straighter in the chair.

‘He has a lot of Fantasy and Sci-fi in his collection’, Charlie spoke proudly, ‘I found it out when he gave me the box with all the new Star Wars movies for my birthday, last year – he refused to keep them’.

‘I hated those things’, he was analyzing the cards in his hand while Dean started the new round, ‘The presence itself was enough to spoil a whole shelf’.

As planned, his response was enough to engage Charlie and Sam in a debate over the merits of Star Wars and, even if Dean was a bit resistant to participate – still obviously wary of Crowley’s comments on Castiel –, soon he joined in the argument.

Bobby, being right in front of Crowley for the game, saw his relieved face when the subject was changed. 

When their eyes met, there was a silent understanding that Crowley hoped Dean didn’t keep him at arms’ length because of Castiel.

Of course, it mattered that Sam approved of him, too, but the boy was nice and caring, they had similar interests (Law, dogs and classic movies, until now), and it seemed they would get along easily. 

However, Dean was naturally magnetic: he made no effort and people found him adorable. Sam consulted him for everything, Bobby considered him his favorite and Charlie melted at the sight of him, her eyes shining as if she was looking up to a worshipped older brother.

So, it was in Crowley’s best interests to have Dean by his side, for all the mentioned reasons.

He expected Castiel, with his overall attitude, didn’t mess with it. 

 

xxx

 

They had pizza for dinner and, once the argument over quality on the big screen was entertaining, the group decided for trash movie night, to Dean and Charlie’s joy.

Sam preferred good independent productions and classics, but he made popcorn and settled on the floor, on some cushions and besides Ruffus, with the evident intention of poking at his brother and best friend’s tastes in entertainment.

Bobby and Crowley shared one big sofa, Dean and Charlie occupied the other, and everybody got comfortable. 

Crowley quickly engaged in helping Sam with the debauchery, and some popcorn was thrown around (to the joy of one lucky dog). 

 

Xxx

 

Everybody had a reason to enjoy the movie.

Bobby, however, couldn’t care less about what they were watching. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off Sam, Dean and Charlie, who glowered in happiness because they were together and having a good time.

It times like these he felt like everything he went through was worth the challenges and sacrifices, so they could have this.

Crowley’s words on being grateful to any entities responsible for bringing them together made even more sense, and he turned his head to his partner.

It was evident that Crowley had not been watching the movie for some time: he was half turned towards Bobby, leaning against the back of the sofa, head resting on his hand, staring with the most adoring expression he had ever seen directed to him.

The man’s inner world of feelings – admiration, fondness, tenderness – were displayed on his face. It was so beautiful to see those emotions there, colored by whatever was going on in the TV screen, that it hurt.

Bobby found it the nicest thing that, even if he hadn’t met the wary and reserved Crowley, it was still obvious how much he had been changing. Some weeks ago, no one who knew him would imagine how open he could be, regarding what he felt.

Their eyes locked, a silent message passing between them.

Bobby could see gratitude in the other’s eyes.

Not the gratitude that came from thinking himself undeserving of love and care – but gratitude because they were there for each other.

Bobby smiled, moved. 

Crowley’s eyes went large, his mouth open.

He gulped down to deal with the sudden emotion, his throat bobbing in a way that shouldn’t make a grown and seasoned man like Bobby so aroused. 

However, it did, and next thing he knew, Bobby was getting up from the couch and grunting an announcement, ‘Going to bed, kids’.

Charlie and Sam looked at him, puzzled.

Dean started fussing to find the remote and pause the movie.

Crowley was blinking owlishly at him, not sure if he was included.

Bobby rolled his eyes and extended a hand towards his guest.

Crowley opened the biggest grin and accepted the unnecessary help, enjoying thoroughly the fact Bobby grunted again, this time pretending it was a great effort to lift him from the sofa.

Dean finally managed to find the control and, when the room went silent, nudged Charlie, ‘He’s still in the old and grumpy act?’

‘Doesn’t miss an opportunity’.

‘Shouldn’t lay it so heavy’, Dean smirked.

‘No one asked your opinion, Nosy McPerson’.

‘Hey, guys, let it go’, Sam hopped up from the floor to occupy the sofa, stretching leisurely on it, ‘The movie must be boring them’.

‘Hey!’, Dean threw some popcorn at his brother, ‘It’s a classic!’

‘Of course, Dean’, Sam bitchfaced, then picked a pillow to put under his head, while Ruffus settled on his legs, ‘However, you’ve got a point: Bobby never stayed in bed more than five or six hours’, he threw a mischievous smile at the men standing, ‘Has Crowley changed your approach on that?’

‘I’m trying to’, Crowley answered, very serious and dignified.

‘Business requires it’, Charlie added in what she judged as a helpful way.

‘Certain business, you mean’, Dean teased.

Bobby reddened, reached out to fuss with his cap, then raised his eyes to glare, ‘Yeah’.

Crowley smiled fondly at the man at his side, who seemed decided to not let the teasing get to him, and tilted his head graciously at the group, ‘Excuse us, people. We were really enjoying all the blood and gore, but the process of convincing grumpy Robert on the importance of a night well spent in bed must goes on’.

Bobby shuffled his feet and bailed his fists by his sides, ‘I’m locking you outside’.

Charlie raised a hand, ‘I know how to pick locks!’

Bobby huffed and turned around, throwing a grunt over his shoulder that probably meant ‘good night’.

(At least, the three younger people in the room answered as if it was.)

Crowley grinned at them, ‘Good night, Moose, Squirrel, Your Majesty’.

(He was already in the middle of the steps when he heard Dean’s ‘What the Hell?!’ over Charlie’s laughing.) 

 

Xxx

 

When Crowley reached the second floor, he came to a halt.

Bobby was at his bedroom door, holding it open for him.

Crowley breathed deeply to deal with his accelerated heart and resumed walking.

He was sporting his cheekiest face when they met, baiting lashes and all, and stopped in front of Bobby, ‘I’d apologize if I didn’t know you like that side of me’.

‘You mean the side who enjoys announcing to the world you own me?’

Crowley opened his mouth to say that it was not really about owning, but Bobby’s squint made him think of their conversation in the yard.

So, he closed it again and shrugged, ‘I promise to use my power for our best interests’.

Bobby shook his head, ‘Yeah’, he smiled and gestured to the room, ‘I know you will’.

It took Crowley some moments to compose himself a bit and accept the invitation.

When he managed to subdue a bit of his trepidation, he stepped in.

 

Xxx

 

Crowley looked around the bedroom.

He knew what it meant that Robert had decided they would be spending the night there, together.

He knew it had been decided the moment he made the invitation – before Crowley almost gave up, before their first kiss, before their first make-out session, before the conversations when they exposed themselves – and that the windy and bumpy road that took them there didn’t change Bobby’s feelings.

His eyes wandered by the curtains, the bed linen, the writing desk at the corner, the big and old wardrobe.

The reality of a life spent there took him: the pleasures and usual conflicts of marriage, the harsh times of widowing, the care for children that were not his but brought purpose to his life.

He wanted to drink in every detail, but he was suddenly hit by the notion that this place was a shrine and that it was an honor to be invited not just to see it, but to share it.

Crowley felt his heart bursting in affection and hope that he was, finally, really part of something good, with someone that thought he deserved to be loved and whom he was able to make happy with his love.

The sound of the door being closed and locked behind him cut his line of thought.

The click of the door took him to another room, some years ago.

A room he entered because he had decided that spending the night with a man he didn’t trust, while slightly drunk, drugged and frustrated, was a good idea.

He tensed, anticipating the feeling of a lean body against his back, the unattractively dry lips on his neck, the grip just on the edge of hurtful on his body.

Crowley forced his eyes shut.

He could feel Bobby approaching him.

Rationally, he knew he was safe. Bobby was not Alastair.

Bobby couldn’t be more different from Alastair.

However, his instincts were screaming.

Deep inside he was convinced that night was going to repeat itself, things would not work out between them, anymore – maybe they never had, and he had been just deluding himself –, and the truth was going to surface.

Love had arrived too late for him.

He was too damaged to receive something so wonderful.

Crowley repeated in his mind, like a mantra, ‘Get a hold of yourself’, in hopes to hide his panic and get through the night without disappointing the man who had done so much for him.

He must be able to, at least, stay put and-

His mind froze.

Bobby was touching him.


	13. Interlude

Fingers reaching out tentatively, a solid palm against his, then fingers enlacing and palms fitting.

Crowley had been so immersed in his panic, drowning in the memories of a scoundrel who glued a repulsive body to his as soon as they were in a locked room, that it took him some moments to register the fact that Bobby was just taking his hand.

He felt the lightest of tugs and followed the movement, accepting the silent invitation to turn around.

Bobby gave the needed steps for them to meet halfway and face each other.

They had been practicing that kind of dance for some time and, especially, for the whole day, and now were in synchrony, their movements smooth and comfortable.

Their eyes met and Crowley’s heart, that some moments ago had been aching, wary and agitated as a frightened animal, was taken by the realization that Robert Singer-related things would never disappoint him.

The most exquisite nameless emotion blossomed in his chest and brought tears to his eyes.

‘Hey’, Bobby caressed the hand in his, ‘Happy tears?’

‘Yes’, Crowley dried his eyes with his free hand, ‘Sorry, love’, he sniffed, ‘This is some unnecessary corniness’.

‘It’s ok to let things out’, Bobby’s voice was soft, ‘How is it going for you?’

‘I’m not quite sure’, Crowley blinked, for there were fresh tears coming up, ‘I’ve never felt like this. Don’t really know what to do of it’.

Bobby nodded in understanding and went closer, enveloping Crowley in his arms.

They just embraced for a while, hearts beating together, bodies anchoring the other in the reality they have created between them.

At some point, after what could have been an eternity or mere moments, Bobby moved to plant a kiss on Crowley’s temple while his hand went up to cradle the shorter man’s head.

Crowley shivered and his lips immediately sought Bobby’s. 

It felt easy and intimate as it had been in the morning, with excited tongues and some teeth and everything they felt like doing to taste the other; it had the easy intimacy deepened through a day spent together; it had the excitement and promise of the afternoon in the yard.

It had the brand new certainty that made them bold and shameless.

Crowley’s hands found their way under Bobby’s t-shirt, Bobby’s strong grip was messing with Crowley’s black shirt, and the complex emotions melted into a haze of lust. 

Suddenly, Crowley tugged harder and let out a whine.

‘What?’, Bobby panted in surprise when their lips parted.

‘Why so many layers?!’, Crowley groaned, pulling at the plaid shirt again, ‘It’s frustrating’.

Bobby chuckled, put his hands on Crowley’s cheeks and pecked his lips in what meant to be a soothing manner, ‘Leave it to me’.

And then he let go.

The plaid shirt and the t-shirt were quickly discarded.

And, as if it was the obvious next step, Bobby unbuttoned his jeans, undid the fly, took them off and threw them away, keeping just his shorts.

Crowley, with his own shirt half open and the tie (that he had dutifully sported while they had company) askew, was frozen, staring at the man in front of him with his mouth hanging open.

Robert was everything he had guessed – bulky, strong, hairy in the perfect measure, manly and, still, so soft – and a lot more that he couldn’t rationalize, right now.

Besides, he stripped with such a confidence and trust that Crowley could barely believe what he was being offered.

He wanted to give that handsome creature all the pleasure and love in the world.

With the white shorts more showing off than concealing his erection, Bobby approached again, rubbing their middles and extracting a moan from Crowley, ‘Is it ok? Don’t want to rush things’.

‘You have no idea how much I share your enthusiasm, love’, he lifted his hands and rested them reverently on Bobby’s chest, making the man close his eyes for a moment and shiver at the contact, ‘You’re so sexy’, Crowley said, curious fingertips exploring, ‘I want you so much…’, he sighed and rested his head on Bobby’s shoulder, ‘I hope you understand I’m not… You know…’

At his hesitance, Bobby prodded gently, ‘Not what?’

‘I’m not sure I’m ready…’, he parted a bit and made a gesture with one hand between the two of them, ‘… for this’.

‘Oh’, Bobby gave one hurried step back, ‘Sorry’, he let go completely, adjusted his white boxers while trying not to gaze at the obvious arousal in Crowley’s middle, and failing, ‘I get it. We can just sleep together. That’s all right with you, isn’t it? We’ve done it, in your sofa. It’s ok with me’. 

Crowley still had his hands mid-air, from where they had been touching a very warm chest just some moments ago, ‘Pardon?’

Bobby’s brain was not really cooperative, but he made the effort to blink some of the lust away, ‘You’ve gone through a lot. Maybe didn’t tell half of it. Maybe sex is complicated to you’, he gulped down, ‘We’re going slow’.

‘What? No!’, Crowley finally realized what Bobby was saying and undid his tie, ‘No, darling, not sex. For sex I’m totally ready’, he threw the tie away and quickly unbuttoned the rest of the shirt, talking fiercely while he did it, ‘You have no idea how ready. I’ve been dreaming of it. Daydreaming. Fantasizing. Give it the name you want’, the shirt flew away and he went for his belt, ‘I was never so ready for anyone’, he opened the pants and let them fall, showing off his constricting shorts, ‘It’s almost ridiculous how much I’ve waited for this’.

Bobby blinked, eyes devouring the body in front of him, now exposing the evidence that they were in the same page, ‘So, what you meant?’

‘What I meant…’, Crowley stepped out of the pants and kicked them away, ‘…is that I may not be ready for a relationship’.

‘A relationship?’

He nodded.

‘Are you ashamed of me?’, Bobby grunted and waved, ‘And focus. My face is over here’.

‘Stop being so attractive if you want me to pay attention to words’.

‘Crowley…’

‘I love it when you growl like that’.

‘Crowley…’

‘No, love, I could never be ashamed of you’, Crowley made the effort to provide a serious answer, ‘In Hell’s Bells I was proud to have someone as amazing as you working by my side. The weekend you spent with me, I was proud of your company to buy croissants in my favorite place. I was proud to buy pajamas with you! I’m proud here, in Sioux Falls, where everybody knows how wonderful you are’, he breathed deeply, ‘Never doubt how invested I am in this’. 

‘Well, I called you my partner earlier and you didn’t flinch’, Bobby shrugged, ‘I took it as a hint’.

‘I loved it when you said that’, Crowley smirked, ‘It touched right where my bathing suit goes’.

Bobby let out such a good-natured laugh that he put a hand over his mouth, reminding himself to not be loud, for the sake of the people in the living room.

The smirk on Crowley’s face at extracting such a reaction was endearing.

Sobering, Bobby rested his hands on Crowley’s hips, ‘Why you think you’re not ready?’

‘I’m not sure I can deal with… what being in a relationship entails. I don’t have much experience in long term things – the one I had, with my wife, was not something I’m proud of’, he made a pained face, ‘I had resigned myself to be alone, Robert. I never thought I would fall in love like this’, his greenish eyes were deep into blue ones, ‘I’m lost in the enormity of this’.

‘You’ve called me big, already’, Crowley chuckled, but Bobby’s thumbs made circles just under the waistband of his shorts, making his breathing halt, ‘You seemed to like it’.

‘Oh, I do’, he answered, instinctively getting closer enough to nuzzle the other man’s beard with his nose, ‘You know what I’m trying to say’. 

‘Yeah’, Bobby nodded in understanding, his lips reaching Crowley’s lobe, ‘You mean the little daily things’.

‘Uhum’, Crowley moaned at a very well-placed tongue, ‘That’s it’.

Bobby accepted the ambiguous answer, ‘You think it may be too much’.

‘Exactly’, Crowley let out a trembling sigh, ‘I hope you understand, darling’, he parted for them to face, ‘I want you like I never wanted anyone else, but I still can’t completely believe I’m relationship material. Especially to someone like you. I’m still pretty sure I’ll mess everything up’.

‘We’re working on that’.

‘Yes, we are’, Crowley shrugged, ‘I think it’s a matter of time for me to adjust, with your help’.

Bobby nodded, very serious.

Then, he pursed his lips, as if in thought.

Crowley waited for what he had to say.

‘Just to make it clear’, Bobby spoke slowly and carefully, ‘When I say ‘little daily things’, I mean seeing each other every day, going to places, having lunch dates’.

Crowley nodded in agreement.

‘And sleepovers, watching movies, strolling in the park, shopping together’.

Now Crowley adopted that adorable suspicious expression while Bobby spoke, face half turned while squinting at him.

‘And sharing some heavy stuff from our pasts, meeting the family and all that jazz’, Bobby raised a brow, ‘Is that the kind of things you include in a relationship, too?’

‘Yes…?’, Crowley frowned with the feeling that he was missing some obvious clue.

‘And those things are what you think you’re not prepared for?’, it was Bobby’s turn to squint, ‘You think you can’t deal with them?’

‘I suppose so’, Crowley squared his shoulders as if to think more clearly, ‘But now I’m confused’, he leaned his head, ‘Was that what you wanted? Make me confused?’

‘I wanted you to realize we’re already in a relationship’.

Crowley blinked many, many times.

Bobby grinned, ‘Sex is another step, not the start, for us’.

Crowley’s eyes went huge, ‘But…’ 

He was speechless.

Bobby waited.

Crowley huffed, ‘I can’t believe you came all Socratic on me, destroying my certainties through well put questions and insidious arguments’.

‘Well, sorry if I hurt your feelings, Princess, but someone had to shoot down your stupid assumptions’, Bobby glared heatedly, ‘You keep thinking you may ruin things. We’ve been doing this for months and nothing was ruined’, he pressed against Crowley again, giving some steps ahead and forcing the other man to move backwards to the bed, ‘It’s time to stop being an idjit’.

‘You’re even more dangerous than I suspected, Mister Singer’, Crowley answered, his hands caressing the taller man’s shoulders eagerly when his legs reached the edge of the bed, ‘I didn’t even notice you sweeping me off my feet’.

Bobby pecked his lips, ‘Come on’, he took off his shorts and threw them away.

Crowley watched, mesmerized, while Bobby passed by him, climbed on the bed, pulled the covers aside, laid down on his side and patted the spot in front of him invitingly.

‘Robert, I…’, Crowley gulped down at the naked body, hardness exposed proudly, offering itself to be touched and tasted, ‘I’m quite enthusiastic in bed when I’m engaged, and I’m quite engaged in this’.

‘Afraid we’re going to traumatize the kids?’

‘They’re downstairs and watching a horror flick. Maybe we’re not going to be heard at all, no matter what we do…’, he gave some steps towards the bed, feeling hypnotized, ‘However, it would be nice to know at least one of us is clear headed enough to preserve our privacy’.

‘They’ll probably snicker if they hear us’, Bobby answered, fluffing a pillow with baffling nonchalance, ‘Just come over here. We’ll find out something to do that’s discreet enough for you’.

Crowley’s eyes drank the image of the man in the bed.

He had enjoyed that body on top of him, in his sofa, but seeing it in all its beefy glory and lustful attitude short-circuited his mind.

There was no way to resist.

Crowley took off his shorts in a hurry, ‘You don’t play fair, Robert’.

He threw the shorts aside and almost ran to Bobby’s awaiting arms.

‘Finally’, was all Crowley could say before their mouths joined for a deep kiss.

The sensation of skin to skin, hands grabbing, hair brushing, legs entwining, and then the big man maneuvering him to his back and settling between his thighs was as delicious and maddening as he had anticipated.

What he didn’t anticipate was Bobby being a tease, rubbing their middles against each other and palming his curves with strong hands while nipping and sucking at his neck.

Crowley was usually very active in bed, but right then all he could do was throw his head back and open his legs as wide as he could, offering himself to the assault.

He had no idea what was happening beyond the tingle and sharp pleasure spreading all over his body until he heard Bobby chuckle in his ear, ‘You’re loud’.

‘Oh’, Crowley gave an embarrassed little laugh that could be described as a giggle, ‘Sorry, love’, he stared at the fond face above his, ‘Too much…’, he scrunched his nose and hissed, ‘…feelings’.

‘It’s nice’, Bobby caressed the jaw of the man under him.

‘Just not here’.

‘Uhum’.

Bobby agreed but took Crowley’s hips in a firm grasp, and resumed using lips to explore skin.

The beard brushed nipples.

A deep groan was heard. 

Smiling lips closed on a nipple.

A whining sounded.

Bobby went on as if the noises were not an issue, but an authorization.

However, at the next round of moans, Crowley managed to grab Bobby’s shoulders and articulate a word, ‘Please’.

‘Thought I was pleasing you’.

‘Don’t be cheeky when I’m embarrassing myself, Robert’.

‘You’re too pretty for that’.

Crowley smiled, ‘Charmer’, he breathed deeply, ‘Come here. I need some soothing kisses’.

‘All for you, Princess’.

Bobby went up for them to be face to face again and engage in a slow kiss.

It was sensual and kind of sloppy, with wet and open mouths.

‘Love’, Crowley whispered against Bobby’s lips, ‘Let me serve you’.

‘What?’, Bobby was confused for a moment, but then he got it, ‘You mean go down on me?’

‘Yes’, Crowley answered, eyes dark with desire, ankles crossing behind Bobby’s ass to bring him closer.

‘I’m not against the idea’, Bobby growled, ‘But I’m not sure I like you calling it ‘serving’’.

‘It’s lovely of you to worry, but you don’t need to. I want to taste you. I want to find out how to pleasure you while you lay here like the god you are’.

‘It’s been some time I don’t get laid, but if I remember well, it doesn’t take turns’, he raised a brow, ‘We can both do things at the same time’.

‘We could and we certainly will, but I’m in no state of mind to be in the receiving end of your sexiness, tonight’, Crowley said in a rough voice, ‘I’ve waited too much for it’.

‘I’ve been waiting, too’, Bobby rested a hand on Crowley’s cheek amorously, ‘You’re not alone in this’.

‘Think of it, love’, noses brushed, ‘We need to occupy my mouth, and I enjoy being used like that’, Crowley licked his lips, ‘I’d feel blessed to have you coming in my mouth’.

‘Jesus’, Bobby grunted, ‘Said you are a demon’.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Bobby was surprised by the expression on Crowley’s face.

He was pleading.

‘All right’, Bobby sighed, ‘I’m not sure what I’m agreeing to, but seems important’. 

Crowley gulped down in relief, ‘Thank you, love’, his hands lowered on Bobby’s back and cupped his ass, making the bearded man gasp, ‘I don’t want to explain further, now, but I’ve got issues with doing things for someone in bed. It’s my kink, but I’ve been…’

At the hesitance, Bobby asked, ‘Your recent wound was about serving and then being kicked out?’

Crowley made a face, ‘Kind of’.

‘Oh’, Bobby made his most earnest face, ‘Well, I’m here to make things different’.

‘I know’, Crowley smiled, reached up to peck Bobby’s lips, ‘It’s been some time I felt like I could really enjoy servicing-Oh, all right-making my partner in bed happy’, he baited his eyelashes coyly, ‘It’s a win-win situation’.

Bobby scoffed, ‘Don’t you love it?’ 

‘Don’t you?’

‘I love you’, Bobby chuckled at the small gasp it didn’t fail to get from Crowley, ‘Let’s see what you have to show me’.

He spoke and moved to settle on his back.

Crowley was looking at him with a hungriness that was indecent.

‘I was going to say that my eyes are over here, but it doesn’t work with you’.

‘You’re being unfair’, he positioned himself on his fours and faced the man under him, ‘I often lose myself in your beautiful blue depths’.

Bobby grinned, ‘This is already you making me happy?’

Crowley smirked, ‘It’s a start’.

The smirk was still in his face when he started slowly going down, and Bobby fought to keep his breathing stable.

‘Let me remind you that I’m on top but you’re in control, love’, Crowley spoke against the hole of Bobby’s neck, ‘I promise to change positions if you ask so’.

‘You say that as if you could pin me down’.

Instead of answering right away, Crowley expertly licked the pulse point on the base of the neck.

Bobby gave out a groan.

‘I’d never imply such a thing’, Crowley teased, ‘You’re obviously stronger than me’.

Bobby wanted to keep the argument going, but the mix of being served and mocked was maddening, his brain stopped providing retorts and his hand moved on her own volition to feel the softness of the other man’s hair.

The man who was currently making a loving trail down his chest, stomach, pubis and…

Well, soon it was very clear how much Crowley enjoyed that.

He explored Bobby’s cock with lips and tongue, he made eye contact and smiled, he gave out small pleasured sounds, he included Bobby’s balls and everything around in the game, he used his hands to caress Bobby’s thighs and tummy and reached out for the nipples to see if they were as sensitive as his.

Bobby was impressed.

Crowley was attentive to his reactions, happy to find out things, quick to notice what worked and aware of what was worth keeping on doing and what could be filed for use later.

His mastering of that was fiery and domineering as Hell and, still, heavenly nice and generous, too.

Bobby had to focus on not moaning and being loud himself, because suddenly Crowley had taken him in his mouth for the longest time, playing with his cock and feeling it get big and hard inside it. 

‘You’re too damn good’, he groaned, both hands now in the black hair, kind of tugging at it.

‘You make it easy, love’. 

‘I’m close’, Bobby now definitively tugged at hair, ‘Wanna see you touching yourself before I come’.

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Want it’, his voice was hoarse, ‘And need a distraction’.

‘But you don’t have to restrain yourself, darling’, the cock disappeared inside the mouth, again, and was released carefully, ‘You come, and I start it all over again as many times as you want, the way you want’, he blinked slowly, in a feline show of affection, ‘I could do it all night’.

‘Lie on your back’.

Crowley’s eyes darkened in a new level of arousal, and he immediately complied.

The man used to occupy positions of power enjoyed thoroughly to be bossed around, in bed.

Bobby briefly wondered if that was what Crowley meant when he said that some relationships had wounded him – if he had had partners whom he expected enjoyed being pleased but cared for him, just to find out he was involved with someone who didn’t. 

Good sex was about trust and freedom, in Bobby’s opinion. Using Crowley was just acceptable from the moment he understood the man was submitting because he chose to, and would just work while it was like that. 

Bobby watched Crowley sprawled on the bed, staring at him expectantly, and maneuvered to be on top of him.

‘A sixty-nine’, Crowley commented with a smile in his voice, face moving to nuzzle against his pubic hair, ‘You have a taste for the classics, Robert’. 

‘I want to be in the front seat for this show’, Bobby lowered his upper body, the contact extracting a delighted moan from the man under him, ‘Let’s occupy that mouth again’. 

‘I should have known you’d be that kind of lover’, lips grazed the head of Bobby’s cock, ‘Eager’.

‘I’m not shy, honey’.

Crowley let out a laugh at the surprising endearment.

‘You’ll show me how you like to be touched’, Bobby lowered his head to speak close to the other’s cock, breathing against the skin, ‘I’ll be watching you while you suck me. I’ll learn what you want from me’.

Crowley sighed, ‘I want everything with you, love’.

‘You can have it’, a caress on the hip, ‘You deserve everything’, the beard brushed a thigh, ‘Have your fun, and I’ll have mine’.

Bobby breathed deeply and closed his eyes, dealing with the fact that Crowley’s answer was put his cock in his mouth delicately and knead Bobby’s buttocks.

It was careful and slow, as if they were starting it all over again.

As if he needed to be coaxed into this.

He didn’t need to be seduced, at this point. He was willing to be intimate as he hadn’t been for some time.

In fact, Bobby hadn’t been interested like this, ever. He and Karen had been High School Sweethearts (and didn’t got together even earlier because he was too shy, at the time), and their relationship was the kind of reciprocal care he always needed and never had in his family. 

Karen healed him with her presence. She turned into his whole world. He didn’t hurry to have children because he was happy just with her. To someone who never had anything, having the kind of love she offered was Heaven, and he didn’t need anything else.

But then she got sick, she died, and he was lost.

Life gave him opportunities to mend himself and not drown in the ghost of his father repeating he broke everything he touched: Jody offered help and rubbed on Bobby’s face that generous people existed and could be there for him; John fought his own demons to the end and Bobby was forced to accept that brave people sometimes led unfair lives.

When Fate deposited two kids into his lap, Bobby realized he had turned into one of those strong people who could be relied on, and that it made him happy.

It had been a different kind of happiness. The happiness of being a mentor, a guide, a solace, the safe harbor to someone.

Crowley had used that expression – ‘safe harbor’ – to refer to their relationship, and Bobby resisted to it, in the heat of the moment, because he still didn’t think he could be the one needing comfort. 

However, the more he spent time with Crowley, the more he understood that the man didn’t want to have a caretaker. In fact, Crowley made clear, every chance he got, that when he felt safe enough he quickly morphed into an adorable tiny tyrant who glared and growled at anyone who got too close to bother the people he cared for. 

Bobby opened his eyes, taken by a surge of love for that man.

Crowley just needed a chance to feel loved, like himself had needed, in the past, to grow and thrive.

History was not repeating itself. They were not together for a bumpy road - they were mature enough for their relationship to develop based on the best of them. 

They just brought on in each other what was worth. 

Bobby heard the pleasured moans Crowley was making while sucking, and his eyes settled on the rock-hard cock in front of him.

It was pretty, standing in full interest, leaking even while neglected.

Getting adventurous, Bobby decided to tease the head with a fingertip, spreading the precum delicately.

He was rewarded with a deep growl and hands pulling him even further down.

Glad it was ok to touch, Bobby separated Crowley’s thighs and, being taller than him, took a good view.

He hadn’t been with men many times, and surely he had never felt such a chemistry with someone in a first time.

It was liberating.

Bobby nuzzled the base of Crowley’s cock and played gently with his balls, getting slowly acquainted with the most intimate parts of the other’s body.

Crowley stopped sucking, just keeping Bobby in his mouth, and opened his legs further.

Bobby’s eyes went wide with the silent request.

He pressed a finger on the wet head, gained a whimper in return, slickered the finger, and used it to tease the hole.

And then he thanked all deities in existence that Crowley had his mouth full, but had to plant his lips on the man’s thigh, because he was not sure he could contain his own moans when he felt his cock being pulled further into that hot mouth.

Inspired, he wetted his finger again and got back to the hole, pressing further and further.

‘Remember our deal’, Bobby spoke, stilling his finger just at the entrance, ‘Let me see how you like it’.

Crowley breathed deeply and his hand left Bobby’s buttock to go to his own penis, moving a fist around the head leisurely.

In response, Bobby made small circles with his finger, teasing and arousing until it slid inside.

Crowley’s toes wiggled in pleasure, but his hand kept the slow play with his cock. 

‘That’s nice’, Bobby praised, ‘You’re eager, but you go slow’, he hooked his finger to massage the prostate, ‘Love it’.

The heartbeat under him increased, the breathing accelerated.

He moved his hips, pressed the palm of his free hand over the prostate.

The excited responses made a mess of his self-control, and Bobby intensified all movements.

Crowley tensed suddenly and let go of himself to grab Bobby’s ass and pull the member deep inside his throat.

Bobby watched, mesmerized, the orgasm taking his partner’s whole body – legs trembling, cock spurting, lips and throat constricting against him – and he came, too, unable to control his instinct to put a part of him inside his lover.

It took them some time to stop shivering and breathing in halts, and it took them a bit more to let go of the other.

When they did, Bobby moved a bit to lay on his side and supported himself on an elbow to look at Crowley as if checking on him.

The man was completely debauched and mussed up – hair glued to his forehead with sweat, face red, lips swollen.

Bobby smiled at him and received an adoring smile in response.

Crowley stayed on his back, not breathing normally yet, one hand relaxed on Bobby’s leg in a contact that was pure and tender, now that the lust was somewhat placated. 

Bobby gave a sounding kiss in Crowley’s thigh, making the man laugh, spontaneous and joyful at the loving gesture.

‘I know I’m being repetitive’, the shorter man said, ‘But you are the most wonderful soul I have ever met’.

‘Are you saying that because I can hit your buttons right?’

‘Literally and metaphorically, love’.

They shared a moment of tenderness, and Bobby moved to sit.

‘Oh, bollocks’, Crowley sat up, too, alarmed, ‘I haven’t noticed the mess I did’.

‘I had my share in it’, Bobby said, the hand with the sticky finger carefully not touching anything.

‘I brought condoms’, Crowley was mortified, ‘Should have told you’.

‘Don’t fret’, Bobby reassured, ‘At least you have them. I gave up bringing some when you said you were not hitting the road with us’.

That made Crowley pause and open a happy surprised face, ‘You intended to?’

‘Yeah’, Bobby shrugged, ‘But then you were here and we could have bought it in town, but you didn’t mention it, and I didn’t want to presume’.

‘I didn’t mention it because I had been prepared for some time’.

‘Good’. 

Crowley smiled at the praise and jumped off the bed.

Bobby was alarmed, ‘Where you’re going?’

‘Clean us up’.

The naked body standing by the side of the bed did not sooth his nerves, ‘Like that?’

‘I’m not leaving the room, love’, he went to his bag, that had been put on a chair, ‘I really have everything covered’. 

Bobby watched while Crowley rummaged thought his bag until he found what he had been looking for and came back to the bed.

‘Baby wipes?’

‘Yes’, he put the recipient down, opened it, picked a wipe and lift a leg to clean himself, ‘They’re useful’.

Bobby was still just watching, and Crowley got self-conscious, folding the used wipe and discarding it in a plastic bag, ‘Sorry if it bothers you, Robert’.

‘Bother? No’, he leaned his head, ‘I’m curious. You always include these things in your bags?’

‘Yes, I always carry such things with me’, Crowley cleared his throat, embarrassed, ‘I found out in therapy I tend to surround myself with things that bring me comfort. Hygiene does the trick’.

‘…because sometimes you just had it when you were a kid’.

Crowley nodded in agreement, his eyes wandering.

‘Don’t need to get defensive’, Bobby reached out for a wipe to clean his finger, ‘If I minded you being fussy, I would not have accepted you helping with my hoarding issues’.

While Crowley relaxed and picked to himself the task of cleaning Bobby’s chest, the bearded man resumed speaking, ‘I could never be messy or clumsy while my father was alive. I was always terrified’, his voice was low, ‘The moment he was gone, after the worst was dealt with, I felt free to gather things and surround myself with them’.

‘He died while you were still a child?’

‘Yeah’, Bobby gulped down, discarded the wipe with a trembling hand and looked Crowley in the eye, ‘Life was better without him’.

Crowley nodded in understanding that it was a harsh subject and took Bobby’s hand in support.

They stayed in silence.

Whatever was left unspoken didn’t matter.

‘So’, Crowley rubbed his thumb against Bobby’s hand, his tone lighter, ‘You pile books and paper around you, I buy cushions and use baby wipes’, he smiled, ‘Different birds, different nests, same goals’.

‘Not so different’, Bobby relaxed, ‘You have books, like me’, he approached to palm the other man’s hip, ‘I enjoy soft things, like you’, his lips touched Crowley’s shoulder, ‘I can appreciate a clean desk, if the argument is convincing’.

‘Funny you mention it’, Crowley leaned his head to offer the side of his neck.

Bobby accepted the offer, ‘Why is that?’

‘The cleaner the desk, the quicker it can be used as a horizontal support for entertaining activities’.

‘Damn’, Bobby grunted, ‘You’re a princess, and then you’re a demon’, he threw the wipes and plastic bag and everything off the bed and pulled Crowley until the man was straddling his lap, ‘And I can’t choose’.

‘Good thing I can be both, then’, he caressed Bobby’s beard with both hands, cradling the face lovingly.

‘You are everything’, the arms enveloping Crowley tightened, ‘You deserve everything’.

Their eyes stayed locked.

Silent promises were made.

They smiled at each other.

And then, both yawned.

They chuckled and embraced, bursting with the happiness of the moment.

When they separated a bit, Crowley looked around nonchalantly, ‘I wonder if your mattress is as comfortable as you, Robert’.

‘Get off me and you’ll find out’.

‘I have no intention of-Oof!’

Bobby had flipped them over, tumbling Crowley on the bed and moving to fiercely pull the covers and tuck them in.

When he was satisfied by the arrangement, Bobby spooned Crowley, pulling him tight against him by the waist.

When the startle passed and Crowley was able to react, he gave up pretending it bothered him to be manhandled and wiggled his hips. 

Bobby sighed contentedly, ‘You know what?’

‘Uhm?’

‘You are something’.

‘Mind to clarify what it means?’

Bobby just grunted, sleep quickly taking him.

‘Robert?’

‘Go to sleep, Crowley’.

‘Just tell me what you meant’.

‘Adorable’, a heartfelt sigh, a hand reaching to hold another, ‘That’s what you are’.

The room was silent for some time.

Bobby gave a last kiss on Crowley’s nape, ‘Sleep or I’ll tell Charlie you cried’.

After some moments, a sniff was heard and a smiley voice sounded, ‘Good night, darling’.

‘Good night, love’.


	14. Weekend at Bobby's - The next day

Charlie was never a fan of waking up early as a child, and even less as a teen.

However, adult life made her realize that the early bird really gets the worm: studying, working for a big company, being a queen and staying at Bobby’s – those were things enjoyed thoroughly when one managed rising with the dawn.

 

xxx

 

Not that people had much of a choice but waking up, in Bobby’s house.

The guys were three forces of nature bursting with energy in the mornings.

The woody floor cracked when Sam went out for his jogging.

The kitchen emitted all sorts of noises when Bobby started breakfast.

The delicious scent of coffee spread through the house, pulling Dean out of his room as if he was a cartoon character floating on air guided by hands made of the smell of good food.

Missing Singer-Winchester’s morning rituals would be impossible.

And a heresy.

 

xxx

 

 

In that Sunday, Charlie woke but stayed in bed as sometimes she did, scrolling her cell phone. She intended to join the party as soon as she finished updating on the last news of the world.

For the time being, she was content to follow the comforting noises of the guys going about his routines. 

She heard Sam in the corridor and, by the patting sounds that followed his heavy steps, Rufus would keep him company while he exercised.

Briefly later, Bobby and Crowley got out of their room. Charlie couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the voices were so soft she wished she could have recorded them just to use it as proof they were rotting sweet about each other.

She heard them walking towards the bathroom. She imagined Bobby escorting Crowley and making sure he was comfortable using the facilities in a house he was still not familiar with.

(Rotting sweet.)

Soon they were back and went downstairs.

The expected clattering noises and delicious scents started coming from the kitchen.

She heard Dean’s door opening and closing, then the door of the bathroom opening and closing.

Some laughter came from the floor below, and Charlie smiled to herself at how adorable it was that those two grumpy old men were so obviously in love. 

The bathroom door opened and closed again, and she heard Dean’s steps.

A new round of laughter sounded, Sam’s voice and Rufus happy barks were heard.

Charlie noticed Dean had halted right around her door.

She wondered if he was going to knock but, when he didn’t, she realized he had stopped to hear the group before he joined them.

She understood him. Things had been changing, with Sam moving in order to study, and then Bobby moving in order to, well, move on; and then Sam was quickly getting successful as a lawyer and Bobby adapted beautifully to life in a new city, even getting into a relationship. Maybe Dean was facing, for the first time in his life, the real possibility of being by himself – no one to look up to, no explanations to give, no shared routine.

Charlie was curious to know what he would do with such freedom.

She heard him resume walking, descend the stairs and greet the group in the kitchen with something that made people laugh again. 

The redhead beamed, proud of the guy. It didn’t matter how out of his comfort zone the situation put him, Dean’s priority was always the happiness of the ones he loved: the moment he knew they were good, he joined them in the same vibe.

Charlie stretched leisurely, feeling ready to get up, when a message lightened the screen of her phone. 

It was a text from Crowley.

‘Good morning, darling’. 

She immediately picked the phone to answer, but he was typing again, so she waited.

‘It happened’.

Charlie’s eyes went large.

(Was he saying what she thought he was saying?)

‘You asked for the information. You’re welcome for the mental images’.

Charlie grinned.

(Yes, he was!)

The typing went on.

‘It was wonderful’.

She sat on the bed, the phone in her hands, her inner fangirl bubbling in ecstasy.

‘You are the best friend I ever had. Thank you for everything’. 

She gave a silent overjoyed scream.

‘PS: Don’t you dare ever mentioning it to my face or I’ll die of embarrassment’.

Charlie’s fingers moved, anxious to congratulate him, to say he was a great friend, too, to promise she would never say a word.

However, the typing had stopped and Crowley was not online anymore. He probably had seized the opportunity of one Singer, two Winchesters and a dog entertained among themselves to update her, and now was back to interacting with them.

Charlie decided the best course of action was to bolt from the bed and see things with her own eyes.

 

Xxx

 

She planned carefully her entrance in the kitchen. 

If she could choose freely a course of action, she would squish Bobby and Crowley in her arms until they squeaked.

However, both were very reserved people. She had to measure carefully how she showed her joy.

She stopped at the middle steps of the stairs, mimicking Dean’s strategy from earlier, ears attentive to what the guys were saying.

Sam’s voice came through the currently open double doors, ‘I can lock your phone in a cabinet, if it helps’, a smacking noise sounded, ‘Hey!’

‘Shut your trap’, Dean was not amused, ‘Just checking on the guy’.

‘You keep staring and it’s going to melt’, Bobby chimed in.

Dean grumbled something.

‘You’re acting as if the angel was some kind of trouble-magnet’, Crowley said, then added, as if he had just realized something, ‘Oh. He is’.

‘He promised to come for lunch’, Sam reminded his brother, ‘It’s too early to be fussy’.

Dean grumbled, ‘Wouldn’t kill him to send some news’.

Charlie could imagine him with his head down, glaring at his phone.

‘I was wondering’, Crowley spoke again, ‘How such a socially well-rounded bunch like you ended up so close to someone as awkward as him?’

‘He needs us’, Sam said.

‘And we need him’, Dean added.

‘That’s a strong statement, Squirrel’.

‘It’s nothing’.

‘It doesn’t look like nothing, to me’.

‘Cas is family’, Dean quickly volleyed back.

‘And family don’t end with blood’, Crowley quoted, ‘I know. Sorry to intrude. I was just intrigued by the worry. After all, Castiel is not exactly fragile’.

There was a moment of silence, and Charlie pondered on seizing it to make her entrance.

However, Bobby broke it, ‘I swear to God, boy, I’m going to take it off of you’.

Dean, who probably had been checking his phone again, got defensive, ‘You did the same thing last morning and no one said a word!’

Another moment of silence.

Dean had just compared his attitude towards Castiel to Bobby’s towards Crowley when he didn’t have news, in the previous morning.

‘Well’, Crowley commented with a smile in his voice, ‘Case closed’.

Sam laughed, ‘Touché’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘You just gave them ideas, Dean’.

Well, it seemed the cat was out of the bag on the subject ‘relationships’.

Charlie descended the last steps, stood by the double doors and smiled brightly.

The four guys looked at her, beaming back.

(Dean, probably grateful by the change of subject, too.)

Charlie said her traditional ‘Good morning, bitches!’ and hugged Sam and Dean; then, she approached an excited Rufus, adding, ‘And dog!’

‘Morning, sunshine’, Dean put down the mug he had been holding, pocketed his cellphone and started preparing the table for breakfast.

She went to the man who was at the stove finishing pancakes, ‘Good morning, Bobby!’

‘Morning, girl’, he opened his arms to accept her hug without letting go of the cooking utensils, ‘Had a good night’s sleep?’

‘Watch out’, Dean joked, ‘Last time I asked that she told me of her dream with Xena, the Warrior Princess’.

‘Nah’, Charlie scrunched her nose at Dean, speaking with just half-faked regret, ‘That was a once in a lifetime’.

Sam teased, ‘Then it was watching horror flicks what made you so giddy?’

Charlie let go of Bobby, so he could tend to the pancakes and she could show she was appalled, ‘The gall! I’m not giddy!’

‘I’m quite sure calling the Queen ‘giddy’ is a capital offense in her kingdom’, Crowley said from his place at the table.

‘If it’s not, she can make it so’, Bobby added.

‘That’s what Royalty is for’, Crowley agreed.

‘I forgive you, Sir Winchester, the Younger’, she said graciously, ‘It’s much ado about nothing’, Charlie accepted a mug of steaming coffee from Dean, ‘Can’t a girl just wake up feeling like the world has turned into a better place?’

Sam raised his brows, ‘Overnight?’

‘I’m a believer’, she shrugged.

‘The unicorn master’, Crowley reminded them.

‘Yeah. And I’m a moose’, Sam had his bitchface on, ‘I wonder what is it with you and nicknames’.

‘Being attentive to the layers of symbolism in any imagery is highly entertaining’, Crowley answered, then smirked that strangely charming smile that mixed innocence and mockery, ‘I recommend it, Sasquatch’.

Sam rolled his eyes.

‘Let the girl dream of a better world’, Bobby finished the pancakes and made a gesture for people to occupy their places at the table, ‘If there are multiple realities, who is to say we’re not in the best one, in which things end up righting themselves in what really matters?’

‘If you say so, Master Yoda’, Sam chuckled and turned to his brother to share a knowing glance.

However, Dean was checking his phone again, and Sam frowned, worried.

Charlie sat beside Crowley, murmuring ‘Morning, boss’.

She did it just to say something special to him, like she had done to everyone in the room. 

She didn’t even expect an answer, once Crowley had heart-eyes at his partner, who had made that philosophical statement while untying his apron – a combination of wisdom and nonchalance that Charlie knew made her boss drool.

So, she was taken by surprise when Crowley turned his head to her, as if getting out of his haze and acknowledging her presence, looked ahead again, raised an arm and enlaced her shoulders.

She understood he was reciprocating the special greeting with one of his own. 

So, she leaned on him.

His eyes did not meet hers, but his hold strengthened a bit, and he smiled.

They parted, Crowley adjusted his shirt (no tie, this morning!) and joined his hands on the table, glad they had shared a moment without having to talk about it.

They felt eyes on them, and both looked up.

It was Sam, who had seen the exchange and now was observing them curiously.

Crowley squinted at the younger Winchester, then made an authoritative gesture, pointing at Rufus.

Sam nodded fiercely and absconded a piece of ham for the dog.

Dean, who had finally put the phone away and seemed more relaxed, approached to stole some ham for himself, and the brothers started to quarrel between them, with Rufus happily following their playful fight.

Charlie laughed at the boys’ shenanigans, then turned when she noticed Bobby approaching the table.

He had a plate of pancakes in one hand, his face illuminated at the whole family thing going on. 

(Not for the first time, Charlie thought of how blessed they were to have found each other and helped to mend the wounds of their losses. Not everybody had such a chance.

For the first time, Charlie realized their family bond tend to bring other people in – like had happened with her and now was happening with Crowley.)

Bobby had a grin on his face while he took one of Crowley’s hands to get it off the table. It was done as if he needed to make space for the food; however, the fact he kept the hand in his after the deal was done spoke of gratuitous tenderness.

It amused the Scott to no end, ‘Finding excuses to touch me, Robert?’

Bobby pulled a chair, sat down at the head of the table, ‘Excuses?’, lifted the hand to his lips, kissed it, ‘Don’t think I need them’. 

At that point, the amusement had gone, and Crowley was mesmerized.

‘Argh’, Dean made a fake shudder, ‘Too much sugar’. 

‘You’re giving us diabetes, guys’, accused Sam, chuckling.

‘You’re rude’, Crowley protested, while Bobby just smiled and let go of his hand to start serving pancakes to everybody, ‘Is Charlie the only adult among you?’

‘Sorry, boss’, said Charlie, ‘But I’m laughing inside’.

‘I curse you all with the cutest and clingiest partners’, Crowley hissed, his eyes going to Sam, then Charlie, then Dean.

The older brother was checking his cell phone again.

‘Speaking of that’, Crowley didn’t resist, ‘Any news from Cas?’

Everybody looked at Dean with different shades of alarm written on their faces.

‘He said he is not sure he can make-Wait. Speaking of what?’

‘Of being cute but not clingy’, Crowley answered without missing a beat.

Dean’s mouth stayed open, giving him that slack face of someone who was not sure what to say next.

Charlie served more coffee to herself, ‘It would not be the first time Cas is so engrossed in something he can’t keep track of time’.

‘It’s Sunday’, Bobby commented, accepting the girl’s offer of coffee, ‘What could he be doing?’

‘Is he still religious?’, Crowley asked, and it was not clear if his tone was of mockery or if he was really intrigued, ‘I remember he was adamant on the importance of faith and using religion as a safe moral compass’. 

‘He has changed’, Dean said, now definitively pocketing the phone and starting a generous serving for himself, ‘He was an ass about right and wrong, but things happened and he learned some lessons’.

‘Sounds good’, Crowley shrugged, threw a piece of pancake to Rufus and started to eat his own portion.

There were some moments of silence – in fact, moments of no conversation, for the eating sounds were definitively there, besides the noises of Sam interacting with the dog.

But then, Bobby cleared his throat and spoke to Dean, ‘Is there a problem, boy?’, he had a brow lifted, ‘Something we don’t know but maybe should?’

It took Dean some moments to answer.

Everybody knew it meant he was choosing what to say.

‘Nothing to worry’, he finally spoke, ‘It wouldn’t kill him to pick up the phone’, he gave a smile, ‘But he’s a grown man and these pancakes are awesome’.

‘Baby in a trench coat’, Sam and Charlie chorused and high-fived each other.

‘He’s family’, Dean resumed speaking while munching on a pancake, ‘Guy can be funny, sometimes, and sure he doesn’t get personal space or how to talk to people, yet, and I had to teach him what good music is, but he is one of us’.

‘Maybe being lost and awkward is what makes him one of us’, Sam joked and, at a reminding wave from Crowley, picked more bits of pancake to give to Rufus.

‘Who’s awkward, here?’, Dean sounded offended. 

Charlie came to the rescue, ‘We all were, at some point. Everybody is, and we had some bad things to overcome, what doesn’t exactly help when one is growing up’.

‘So, what Moose meant was that Castiel is on his way to become a more level-headed human thanks to you?’

‘Not level-headed’, Bobby chimed in, ‘Compassionate. That’s what the Winchesters do to people in their lives – force us to be better and move on’.

‘And then we spread that to the rest of the world’, Charlie beamed into her coffee, ‘See what I meant by feeling like the world had got better?’

She winked at Crowley, who smiled, conceding the point.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

Some hours later, Crowley gave a happy sigh of satisfaction when he sat on the middle of the big sofa in Bobby’s house.

‘Tired already?’, Bobby passed by his partner on the way to the kitchen, a hand affectionately brushing the top of his head.

Crowley cracked his neck, ‘As lovely as strolling in a yard filled with alien mechanical parts is, sometimes all a guy wants is a comfortable place to lounge for a wee bit’.

Charlie threw herself on the other sofa, ‘The nerd girl agrees’.

‘You’ve turned into sedentary office-bugs’, Bobby said, opening the fridge, ‘Can’t survive a basic field day’. 

‘Don’t take us wrong, love’, Crowley spoke, taking off his tie and relaxing further on the sofa, ‘I find myself enjoying Sioux Falls even more than I could guess’.

‘I get you mean the driving around part’, Bobby was back with two glasses of water.

‘The group activities were entertaining’, Crowley smiled, accepting the glass offered to him.

‘It’s great to come here and do whatever there is to do, Bobby’, Charlie, who was receiving a glass, too, added.

The owner of the house went back to the kitchen, ‘Sometimes it’s just cooking, eating and cleaning the kitchen. No great stuff’. 

‘Sometimes it’s all that is needed for one to feel included, love’.

‘Right’.

‘Of course, driving around with you was remarkable’.

‘More than strolling in the yard to see the alien pieces of metal?’, Charlie teased.

(At some point, Dean and Bobby’s conversation on cars’ parts became too cryptic for everyone else.

Luckily, they had a dog to entertain, shared an interest for a handful of subjects and had a streak of mocking that permitted them to break in the mechanics’ conversation.)

‘Let me ponder on it for a moment’, Crowley gulped down the rest of the water, gaining time, knowing Bobby had just drunk his own glass and was coming back to retrieve theirs in a moment, seizing the opportunity to listen on them, ‘See the city and the landscape with a sexy guide just for myself or walk around with a whole bunch of nice people and a lovely dog while the sexy guy pampers his oldest son?’, he squinted his eyes as if in deep thought, ‘I think I’ll pick the first option’.

‘I’m not your bloody tourist guide’, Bobby said with no heat, reaching out for Crowley’s and Charlie’s glasses.

‘Not questioning the sexy part, are you, darling?’

Bobby grunted something in his way back to the kitchen, and Charlie laughed, ‘You walked right into that one!’ 

‘Sorry’, Crowley turned his head to talk to Bobby, ‘I promise to make up for you as soon as we get back’.

‘Watch out what you promise’, Bobby came to stand beside the sofa, ‘I may cook the messiest dishes just for you to clean up after me’.

‘Anything for you’, Crowley spoke sincerely.

‘Wow’, Charlie showed her surprise, ‘Never thought I’d see that’.

‘He’s a lot more domestic than he looks’, Bobby beamed fondly.

‘Really, Robert?’, Crowley huffed, ‘It sounds like you took me for some feral animal before you knew me better’.

‘Hold your horses, Princess. It was meant as a good thing’.

The ranting went on, ‘Just because you turn me into a purring mess from time to time, it doesn’t mean I won’t bite if it fancies me’. 

‘Nothing to worry’, blue eyes were settled on Crowley’s, ‘I can take both sides of you’.

‘Wow again’, Charlie said, laughing, ‘That’s my clue to say Get a Room?’

‘Don’t be crass, darling’, Crowley smiled, ‘It would be terribly graceless of us to disappear in the middle of the afternoon’.

‘My wrong’, she agreed with a knowing smile of her own, ‘Maybe I’m just lightheaded watching you two’.

‘If it depends on me, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to get used to it’.

Crowley was going to develop the idea further, but a lot of things happened in quick sequence.

Bobby occupied the spot besides him on the sofa.

The front door opened and Sam entered, followed by Rufus.

Bobby put his arm over Crowley’s shoulders, snuggling against him, and spoke to the Winchester, ‘Where’s your brother?’

Charlie turned to Sam, ‘Still pretending we don’t know he is waiting for Cas?’

Sam crossed the room to fetch a chair and sit with his arms supported on its back, ‘Yeah. Pretty sure he is hiding something’.

Rufus hopped up the sofa to put his head and front paws on Crowley’s lap.

And that was when Crowley realized he was surrounded by love.

The three people in the room were bonding over their worry for Dean, while naturally including him in their circle of affection.

Even the dog acted as if Crowley was a nice dependable thing. 

He was not used to it yet, if the bitter-sweet clench in his chest was something to be considered.

He realized he had stopped breathing and forced himself to relax again.

Bobby noticed his struggle and seized the fact Sam and Charlie were exchanging ideas on Dean’s behavior to ask quietly, ‘You ok?’

Crowley turned his head.

Their eyes met and Bobby’s hand captured his.

Crowley was not against the gesture, not at all. However, it took him by surprise, and his face showed his bewilderment.

Bobby raised a brow as if challenging him to object.

Crowley smiled at Bobby – a wet smile – and looked away, to stamp down some of his feelings and settle his other hand on the dog’s head, ‘Getting there, love’. 

Bobby pressed a tender kiss on the side of Crowley’s head, ‘Right’.

They turned their attentions back to the younger people.

‘I just wish they would settle the situation’, Sam was saying.

‘I think the tension is kind of cute’, Charlie answered.

‘That’s because it’s not you they call to rant about the other’.

‘They call you to do that?!’, she was wide-eyed in a moment, ‘Give them my number!’

‘If you need someone for match-making, she is quite good at it’, Bobby commented.

Everybody smiled at him (including Crowley).

‘Well, about that…’, Sam cleared his throat, ‘I have something to tell’.

‘Oh, an announcement of an announcement’, Crowley smirked, ‘It’s always promising, in soap operas’.

‘Don’t tease a Winchester when they sound serious, boss’, Charlie warned.

‘Far from me to tease a giant’.

Bobby rolled his eyes and pressed further against Crowley, as if his closeness would tame whatever comments he thought of doing, ‘Go ahead, Sam’. 

The younger Winchester smiled thankfully, ‘I don’t think I’ll ever come back to live here, in Sioux Falls’.

‘That’s not exactly a surprise’, Bobby said, ‘You’re doing great in your job. No sense in coming back here, anymore, when there’s a world out there for you’.

‘Yeah’, Sam agreed, fiddled with the back of the chair, then resumed, ‘But, get this…’, he breathed deeply, preparing to what he had to say, ‘It’s not just that’.

‘Oh, my God!’, Charlie almost jumped from the sofa, ‘You’re telling them about Jess?!’

 

 

xxx

 

 

Crowley didn’t know why he had offered to call Dean in the yard.

Yes, now that he knew Sam trusted him – after all, the boy had chosen to tell about his soon-to-be fiancée in Crowley’s presence -, it made sense that he tried to make sure he was in Dean’s good graces, too.

However, he didn’t need it now. There would be other opportunities. 

The truth was that Sam’s words had made an unexpected impression on Crowley: the Moose said he didn’t tell his brother about Jess, yet, because he was worried Dean would feel left behind.

It made some sense. Sam and Bobby had gone for fresh starts, while Dean stayed. As much as Dean stated he was happy (and he probably was to a certain degree, being a sucker for traditions and routines), he was known to keep his pain inside and sacrifice himself for the ones he loved since he was a kid, and it made Sam hesitate. 

Of course, now that Bobby had entered a relationship and had even brought Crowley to introduce him to the family, Sam felt like it would be dishonest not to reveal he was in the same situation.

Crowley was surprised to find out he had been on point when he teased Dean on his closeness to Castiel: the whole family thought it was a matter of time for them to accept they were attracted to each other, and that it would be definitively helpful for Dean to deal with his new life. 

(They probably weren’t together yet because Cas was raised in a Christian family which entered panic mode at the idea of sin, while Dean was a righteous idiot who thought any distress Cas felt would be completely his fault and decided to sacrifice his happiness for what he took as the greater good.)

The group discussed the situation for some time in the peace of the Sunday afternoon, exchanging facts on those two and ideas on how to deal with the thick-heads.

They promised to protect Dean from his own stupidity, and asked Sam all the questions in the world about Jess, which he answered joyfully. 

A pact of reuniting again in some weeks for everybody to meet her was made.

And then Bobby declared that waiting for Castiel may be useless because the guy was unpredictable, Sam suggested the guy wanted to have Dean to himself, everybody realized if that was the truth they were being obnoxious for not leaving ASAP, Charlie and Sam said they would stay a bit more just to pester, and that was when Crowley offered to call Dean while Bobby fetched their bags.

Bobby thanked him warmly for siding with him.

As if he would ever not side with Robert!

If the man wanted to go home, who was he to…

Oh, well. That was why he had offered, in fact.

The prospect of going home with Robert was too nice to not act on it immediately. 

 

 

Xxx

 

 

As soon as they made eye contact, Dean scowled at Crowley.

The Winchester was leaning against a car, arms crossed on his chest.

He was terribly handsome, in Crowley’s opinion, even while sporting that annoyed face male models learned to do in order to appear manly and mysterious in commercial shots.

Crowley almost regretted the decision to come and talk to Dean. He hoped he didn’t ruin a perfect weekend with his stupid urge to make an impression.

He kept his casual approach, hands in the pockets of his pants and the lightest smile on his face, then halted at a respectful distance, ‘Sorry to interrupt the brooding, but Robert is making a fuss about, and I quote, ‘hitting the road’ and I offered to conjure you while he prepares and gets down our bags’.

A small smile appeared on Dean’s face.

Crowley frowned, ‘Something funny, lad?’

‘I can see why he likes you’.

‘Pardon?’

‘Bobby’, Dean explained, ‘I get what he sees in you’.

‘I like to think it is my ravishing looks, but you made me curious’.

‘That is a matter of taste. I don’t judge’, Dean shrugged, then added, ‘He doesn’t get bullshit from anyone. At first sight, you’re full of it. But soon it’s clear you’re not’.

Crowley leaned his head, ‘Thank you, I suppose’.

‘And you’re a fighter’, Dean made a nod of appreciation.

‘The same goes for every person in this house’, Crowley dared to observe, ‘Fighters and survivors’.

‘Yeah’, Dean uncrossed his arms, ‘Like Sammy says, maybe that’s why we’ve ganged up’.

Crowley nodded.

Silence fell on them.

Crowley gestured to the cellphone in Dean’s hand, ‘Nothing, yet?’

He received such a hardened stare at the question that he gave a step back and raised his hands, ‘I know I still don’t qualify completely as family, but your surrogate father is worried about you, and what bothers him affects me’.

Dean pushed off the car, ‘Cas is on the road’.

‘Oh’, Crowley hesitated a moment, then asked, ‘Should we wait? We had given up’.

‘He’s almost here’.

Crowley waited, but nothing else was said.

‘I should warn the others, then?’

‘Yeah’.

Again, he waited, but nothing else came.

‘So much for speaking clearly’, Crowley took the silence as a dismissal and turned to the house.

‘Wait’.

He turned fully to Dean, again, ‘Yes?’

Dean gave some steps closer, ‘Did you know that Hell’s Bells and Pearly Gates originated from a single company?’

‘Obviously. I made my research as soon as I met Lilith’. 

‘You asked people?’

‘I asked people, I read all Chuck Churley’s crazy biographies, I researched on Lucifer’s crimes. I had a fake wall hidden in my closet with a diagram of the whole family, maps and photos and all. Why do you ask?’

Dean squinted as if pondering on the truth of the ‘hidden wall’ part.

(Crowley supposed it would not be above the guy to build such a thing if he got obsessed over a subject.)

The Winchester resumed, ‘It means you know Castiel is Lucifer’s nephew’.

‘Yes, Dean, I know. The question stands: why do you ask?’

‘Some people don’t like Cas because he is related to a bunch of sickos’.

‘I’d never judge someone for their family origins, if that’s what you want to know’, he gave a bitter smile, ‘Doing so would be highly problematic for my self esteem’. 

Dean nodded in understanding, ‘Then, what’s your beef with him?’

‘As have already mentioned earlier…’, Crowley squared his shoulders to soldier on, ‘When I met Castiel, I expected him not to be judgmental exactly because he comes from a family in which one side is obsessed with being paramour of perfection while the other couldn’t care less for anything but their own twisted desires’.

Dean just watched him.

‘I don’t know what you want me to say’, Crowley licked his sudden dry lips, ‘We worked together many years ago, it went sour, the rest is History – at least, for me’. 

‘You did something that made him act judgmental?’

Crowley squinted, irritated, ‘That’s what he said?’

‘Maybe he did’, Dean gave another step towards Crowley, showing off his height, ‘Maybe that’s why you’re so defensive about him – because he has something to tell’.

‘Did he really say I was wrong?’, Crowley stood his ground, glaring back at Dean, ‘Or you’re fishing for some info he refused to give?’

Dean blinked, surprised.

Crowley smiled at the realization, ‘He didn’t say anything, did he?’ 

‘No, he didn’t’, Dean admitted, his demeanor changing to something less wary, ‘Couldn’t get a damn thing out of him’.

‘And you tried’.

‘Threatened’.

‘It doesn’t really work with him’, Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘Trust me, I know’.

Dean shook his head, amused, ‘Are you going to tell?’

‘Sorry, Squirrel, but it’s not my place to do it if he didn’t’.

‘It could be your chance to gain my trust’.

Crowley pursed his lips, ‘As much as I want you to accept me, Dean Winchester, this is not about you’.

‘This what?’

‘My position in this family. What matters to me – the reason why I came here, my motivation to be better everyday as a person – is Robert. What you think of me won’t change how I feel’. 

Dean smiled gently, ‘So, I was wrong and you don’t give a crap about my opinion’.

‘Unfortunately, I do give a crap’, Crowley smiled back, ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to make Robert happy. If I have to be stoic about any prejudiced opinions you or Castiel – or you because of Castiel – have on me, so be it’.

‘I have my own head’, Dean assured him, ‘I would not take you for anything I don’t see you being’, he shrugged, ‘As long as you treat Bobby right, you’ll have my support’.

Crowley was not appeased, ‘Same here: the only thing off-limits is accusing me of doing any evil deed towards him or anyone he considers his family’.

Dean seemed to find the harsh tone funny, ‘You sound pretty sure of yourself for someone so short’.

Crowley squinted dangerously, ‘You wouldn’t be the first to underestimate me’.

Dean laughed, ‘I may regret it, but I like the attitude. We have a deal’, he kept grinning, ‘Just don’t be a pouter’.

Crowley felt a flutter of joy in his chest, and his demeanor softened, ‘The only kind of deal I make out of business involves howling at the moon’, he raised his brows, ‘I hope you’re not interested, because I already have the loveliest partner for that’.

‘I didn’t need the mental image, but I get it’, Dean patted the other’s shoulder, ‘Bobby hit jackpot’.

Crowley reddened and gulped down.

He decided to offer something in return for the praise, and spoke gently, ‘If some day Castiel decides to tell you his version of the story, I’ll be more than happy to tell mine, if you’re truly interested in hearing it’.

Dean nodded, ‘Sounds fair’.

Crowley nodded back and turned to the house.

He had his head up high, proud of his accomplishment.

It was a matter of time for Dean Winchester to be his buddy.


	15. Weekend at Bobby's - Time to go

The people in the living room stopped talking and went to the front door the moment the thing Castiel drove entered the yard.

‘Dear Lord’, Crowley was astonished, ‘Why?’

Bobby chuckled, ‘Dean complained his old car was creepy silent’.

‘I get the loud motor, then, but…’, his face was scrunched in confusion, ‘Why the loud colors?’

‘Cas has no common sense’, Sam smiled fondly, ‘He said the seller told him it was a relic’.

‘It’s a monstrosity’, Crowley was sincerely appalled, ‘He could have just asked Squirrel to help him’.

‘He wanted to make a surprise!’, Charlie defended the guy, ‘And Dean loved it’.

‘He loved that thing?’

‘It’s about the spirit, Boss. The other car made Dean grumpy; Cas would do anything to make Dean happy; thus, Cas picked the most absurd car he could find in order to make Dean smile’.

‘I still can’t see Dean Winchester, younger half of Singer-Winchester Salvage Yard, loving that thing’.

‘I could hear his grin through the phone when he called me to tell’, Sam stated.

‘I saw it’, Bobby added.

‘Uhm’, Crowley leaned his head, ‘And you people say they are not together?’

‘Not yet’, Sam scoffed.

‘It’s been a while they’re dancing around each other’, Bobby said.

‘What a waste of time’, Crowley rolled his eyes.

‘Stop the bitching’, Charlie came to the rescue, again, ‘Not everyone is like some people…’, she looked pointedly at Bobby and Crowley, ‘…who forget there is a world outside since the first meeting’.

Sam decided the best way to be forgiven for his snickering was move to the porch.

Charlie followed him, ignoring the baffled faces of the couple.

 

xxx

 

The four of them stood outside, observing.

Cas got off the car – trench coat and blue tie, as always – and stood with his arms along his body and eyes locked with his best friend, who went there to greet him.

The group couldn’t hear it, but they saw Castiel’s lips moving in his customary ‘Hello, Dean’.

The group couldn’t see it, but they knew Dean must have smiled fondly and said, ‘Hey, Cas’ before they hugged.

Charlie turned to Bobby and Crowley, ‘I take back what I said’, she was serious, ‘I’d be a dead fan girl if I had to go through this with you for years’.

‘Oh, well, I would be a dead man if I didn’t smooch Robert for yea-’, Crowley stopped talking when the hand resting on his lower back went even lower, in a mix of teasing and threat, ‘Got it, love. No more mental images for the younglings’.

‘Thank you’, Bobby answered, then looked at Charlie and Sam, ‘You’re welcome’.

They chuckled and returned their attention back to the reunited friends.

Dean and Cas were still standing by the side of the car, just staring at each other.

‘And again we have the classic we-just-forgot-the-rest-of-the-world-exists romance trope’, Charlie commented.

Sam huffed, ‘I told you!’

‘Don’t be like that’, Bobby scolded, ‘It’s a good sign’.

‘Yeah’, Charlie agreed, ‘But we’ll have to help them to move things further’.

‘I’m not getting involved in-’, the hand grabbed a bit tighter on Crowley’s ass and he immediately retraced his route, ‘Every love story, even the ones between morons, deserve our understanding and support’.

Sam shook his head and gave a step towards the pair in the yard, decided to break the moment, once it seemed far from ending any soon, ‘Guys?’

 

 

xxx

 

 

After the initial greetings and Cas refusing a chair (‘I drove for three and a half hours. I don’t require a surface to sit, right now’) and accepting an offer to eat (‘Burgers always make me happy’), the group scattered around the kitchen.

Dean went to the fridge to get one of the ‘burger kits’ he had ready for emergencies like a personal craving or his best friend’s visit.

Cas stood by the stove, what meant he had chosen to be close to Dean while he prepared the food.

Sam sat at the table with Charlie, what meant they would probably want some burgers, too.

Bobby and Crowley stood by the double doors, what meant they would be polite for the sake of the new presence among them, but were making clear they had plans of leaving soon – what was made clear by the bags currently on the living room floor and the fact Crowley had picked up his long black coat on the way in and put it on.

Rufus stayed on the yard. He liked Castiel, but after some celebratory jumps the dog decided to go for a round by himself.

(Obviously, the situation was going to change as soon as the scent of frying burger reached him.)

Sam was the one to ask the question in everybody’s heads, ‘What took you so long, Cas?’

‘Dean didn’t tell you?’, he leaned his head to the side like a confused puppy.

The older brother spoke without turning from the sink, where he was spreading the contents for the burgers, ‘I thought better not’.

‘I see’, Castiel nodded slowly, forehead frowning while he processed the information.

Bobby crossed his arms, annoyed, ‘Is this still some big secret thing or you gonna tell us?’

It brought the man in the trench coat back to the present moment.

Before speaking, he still looked at Dean, who nodded in return.

‘I received a message from my contact in the Police, this early morning’, Castiel announced to the rest of the group, ‘Azazel and Alastair were arrested’.

‘What?!’, Sam got up from his chair, eyes wide, ‘When?’

‘Close to midday. That’s why I couldn’t be here for lunch’, Cas seemed apologetic, ‘I didn’t mean to be rude, but I received the information and waited until the apprehension was concluded to bring detailed news’.

Sam looked at his brother, waving his arms and shaking his hair in a way that would be funny if he was not so angry, ‘You knew!’ 

Dean didn’t turn, ‘Yeah. I knew’.

‘That’s why you were so out of yourself!

‘Yeah, Sammy, that’s why’.

‘Why didn’t you say anything?!’

‘Because I knew you’d want to be there’. 

‘Of course I’d want to be there! I’ve been waiting for this my whole life!’

Now Dean turned, ‘We already did enough. It’s time to step back’.

Sam threw his arms around a bit more, opened his mouth and closed it again, put his hands on his waist.

He was ready to start the old argument of hiding things from the other, but not sure where to start.

Dean was frowning, ready to volley back any accusations and, hopefully, placate his brother.

Charlie and Bobby exchanged alarmed glances: not just the boys were back to one of their recurring themes, but Crowley had been awfully quiet since the announcement.

Castiel, who always got bothered by conflict, took the initiative to do something to diffuse the situation.

He turned to Crowley, ‘You were right in your assumptions about Alastair. He didn’t care to cover the rape-drug aspect of his activities’. 

Whatever Sam and Dean had to say to each other, they let it aside and turned to the new focus of the conversation.

Crowley was frozen on the spot.

Castiel, glad to have reached his goal of stopping a Winchester argument through what he considered a very much delayed praise to someone he had been at odds for years, felt comfortable to go on, ‘The data you provided was decisive for the investigations to reach the rest of his crimes. It was legally possible to have access to his computers and know what to look for the moment Police had the inside info, and from then on, things unfolded quickly’.

Crowley felt everybody’s eyes going from Castiel to him.

He gulped down and forced his throat to work, ‘I’m glad to hear it’.

Bobby stepped closer to his partner. He had no idea of what was at stake, but rape was the kind of subject that should never be taken lightly.

And he had seen Crowley plagued by nightmares. Maybe his flashbacks were related to things he had seen in Hells Bells’ guts. 

‘I had access to some of the recordings. The videos are sickening’, Castiel pursed his lips, ‘The crudeness of humanity doesn’t cease to shock me’.

Crowley paled as if he was going to faint.

Bobby stepped as close as possible without touching, ready to act of necessary but not wishing to expose the other’s discomfort more than it was already exposed.

He noticed Charlie’s wide eyes at the realization something heavy was going on, and the urgent way she looked at Sam and Dean, begging them silently.

‘Cas’, Dean touched the trench coat-clad arm, ‘That’s not ok’.

The man blinked, confused, then seemed to understand what was told and spoke, ‘My apologies, Crowley. Now I realize it didn’t sound right’.

Crowley nodded slowly, uncertainty lacing his expression.

Dean nodded at Cas approvingly and turned back to the oven.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

No one knew how to proceed, once Crowley and Castiel were the ones who had knowledge to impart, but one didn’t have any common sense and the other seemed deeply distraught by the subject.

Castiel resumed speaking, his next words directed to the whole group, ‘I didn’t mean to imply Crowley had any involvement with the production and utilization of the rape-drug as an active participant, and I’m sorry I was not clear about that’. 

Dean tensed, ‘Cas…’

‘That’s all right, Dean’, Castiel said, in a tone meant to imply he knew what he was doing, ‘He deserves to know that I have changed my mind about him during this whole process’, he offered a smile to Crowley, ‘When Meg approached me with the information you were offering, I was certain it was part of a plan of yours to get a higher position in Hell’s Bells’. 

Charlie had her mouth agape at the revelation that Crowley had, in fact, acted through Meg.

The Winchesters and Bobby were dealing with the fact that Crowley had helped the investigations.

‘When I had access to the tapes, everything was cleared, and I regretted not being more trusting’, Castiel’s eyes were haunted, ‘I felt ashamed for my suspicions. I just presumed Crowley had that data because he was a criminal when, in fact, he was raped by Alastair in at least two different opportunities’.

It was like time had stopped.

No one even breathed.

Castiel frowned, not understanding the reactions, and looked at Dean for help.

Dean looked at Crowley, and at Castiel, opened his mouth to say something, didn’t find what, closed it again…

Rufus barked at the back door to be let in, and it unfrozen the group.

Bobby grabbed Crowley’s hand and threw a pleading look at Charlie.

‘I’ve got this’, she said, knowing he needed her to hold the fort while he took his currently petrified partner out of there.

Bobby nodded in gratitude and pulled Crowley towards the front door.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

Bobby just stopped the stride when they reached his truck.

There, covered from the house, he turned to Crowley to access his state of mind.

The empty expression spoke of shellshock.

Bobby put his hands on the sides of Crowley’s face, trying to make him look into his eyes, ‘Hey. You’re in there?’

No reaction.

Bobby’s old panic of losing people hit him.

He fought besides Karen, just to see her turning into a shadow of herself and dying in his arms.

He hunted with his friend Rufus every week, but one day he decided to stay home and some guy with no experience shot his friend by accident, and until today he felt like it was his fault.

His father always said he broke what he touched, and in a moment of panic, he ended his old man. 

He saw the accusation in the eyes of his mother, every day, for the rest of her life. 

Karen helped heal some of his guilt, but their marriage didn’t last much, with her disease and all the pain and sorrow through it and afterwards. Rufus was a smart and down-to-Earth good friend, but he was gone. It was like Bobby was destined to fail.

When everything seemed lost and decided, Jody stepped in.

Jody, who helped him believe in himself as someone who could make a difference and make the world a better place.

Jody, who introduced him to John – the biological father of the two boys who would turn him into a father.

A damn good one, by the way. 

He would not throw life away, again.

He would not give up again, ever.

Bobby pulled Crowley into his arms, ‘I’m here’, he spoke to the unresponsive body in his arms, ‘Please, don’t keep it in. Let me help’.

Tremors spread through Crowley’s body.

Bobby felt an ounce of hope – a reaction meant the other man was reachable.

‘Take your time’, he whispered, ‘I’ve got you’.

The tremors kept on for some time.

When the worst of it subsided, Crowley lifted his arms to reach the back of Bobby’s shirt.

The hands clenched on the cloth.

Bobby felt like he was holding something ready to snap.

Well, he had no fear of stressed souls. He had dealt with a lot of them through his life, his own included.

‘You said you went to therapy’, Bobby whispered, ‘There’s nothing much I can say that you haven’t heard before, but I’ll say it anyway’, he caressed Crowley’s hair, ‘You can punch me if you want to’.

He was silent for some moments, regulating his own breathing, hoping it helped Crowley to feel anchored, and giving him time to let the words sink in.

‘Here we go’, Bobby resumed, ‘It’s ok to feel angry about what happened’. 

He spoke and waited again.

There was a slight change in the other’s breathing. Kind of a sigh.

Taking it as a good sign, he spoke again, ‘And it’s ok to blame yourself even if you know, deep down in your head, that it was not your fault’.

He planted a kiss on Crowley’s temple.

And waited, patiently.

When Crowley was able to breath normally, his hands relaxed a bit on the shirt, and his whole body relaxed.

Bobby was so relieved that he couldn’t express it in words – so, he pulled the other man as tight as possible against him, arms turned into iron claws, his face snuggled on Crowley’s neck as if he was breathing the skin there. 

‘You’re smothering me, love’.

Bobby answered something muffled against the neck.

‘Sorry. I didn’t catch it’, Crowley was moved by the out of character clingy attitude, ‘You’ll have to say it again’.

‘M not letting go’, there was a sniff, ‘M not losing you’.

‘What do you-Oh’, Crowley cut himself off, ‘I’m so sorry, Robert. I didn’t mean to trigger anything’.

‘Tha’snot’thepoint’.

‘Of course it is. Your pain is as important as mine’.

Bobby parted enough for them to face. 

He intended to say something.

However, their eyes met and Crowley’s were so serene, so sweetened by their togetherness, that nothing came out.

He resigned to shake his head instead of retorting.

Crowley pouted patronizingly and patted Bobby’s shoulder, ‘There, there’.

That made Bobby laugh.

Crowley smirked.

‘Idjit’, he started rubbing his reddened eyes.

‘Whatever you say, darling’, Crowley took Bobby’s hands away to dry the other man’s tears, ‘Allow me’.

Bobby accepted the pampering.

Both recognized the affection in being there for each other, bonding over the fact they could take care and be cared for with no judgement.

Bobby breathed deeply, ‘You feel better?’

‘Yes’, Crowley nodded, making a point of not averting his eyes. 

Bobby nodded back, ‘And speaking of triggers’, his voice was careful, ‘Was it ok to hug you?’

The question surprised Crowley, who frowned a bit, pondering.

When he answered, his tone was clipped, ‘I never had a problem with being touched’, he gulped down, ‘Probably that is why he didn’t need to force himself on me’.

Bobby tensed, ‘You remember the abuse?’

‘Bits’.

‘But you feel like it happened because you let it happen’.

Crowley shrugged, eyes wandering.

‘Hey’, Bobby got closer, ‘We don’t have to talk about it, but I need to know if at least here…’, he put a fingertip in Crowley’s temple, ‘…in your melon it’s clear that blaming yourself is bullshit’.

Crowley stared pointedly away for some moments but, once Bobby was not moving on, compromised in looking at the plaid-covered chest, ‘Being in the same room with him makes me sick to this day’, he spoke, ‘But when the flashbacks come… I kind of enjoy it’, he huffed, ‘I enjoyed it’. 

‘It doesn’t mean he had the right’.

‘In a way I consented’.

‘In no way doing something when you’re out of your right mind is consenting’.

‘It doesn’t matter’.

‘Of course it does’, Bobby insisted, ‘That’s why those drugs exist – to mess with people until they agree to do things they wouldn’t with their heads clear’.

‘You don’t know the whole story’. 

‘What else there is to know?’

Bobby regretted the fierce tone when it made Crowley look up at him, eyes wide, ‘Sorry. Don’t wanna corner you’.

‘No, it’s all right’, he looked Bobby from head to toe. 

‘What? You’re choosing how you’re going to kill me?’

Crowley shook his head, ‘I just remembered who I am talking to’.

‘Is that a good thing?’

‘Not sure’, he pouted, ‘I guess it means you’re not giving up’. 

‘No, stupid, I’m not’, the fierce tone was back, ‘I care. I want to listen if you’re ready to talk. I want to help you deal with this mess’.

Crowley huffed as if he had heard something not quite believable.

‘Yeah’, Bobby grunted, ‘Get used to being cared for’.

Crowley shook his head, ‘You’re too adorable for you own good’.

‘Take advantage’, Bobby looked at him earnestly, ‘Tell me whatever you’re ready to tell. Get something off your chest’.

Crowley closed his eyes for a moment, breathed deeply and opened them again.

Bobby gulped down, bracing for the impact.

‘Alastair was around me since I started working for Lilith. I’m not speaking of a day or a week, and I’m not speaking of casual and brief meetings. I’m speaking of months. I’m speaking of entire nights in the same exclusive events where everyone was high and everyone was groping everyone. He made proposals, I refused. He started touching me without permission, and I didn’t say a word. He menaced people who approached me, so I felt lonely and left aside, and still I pretended I hadn’t noticed, for the sake of having a chance in Hell’s Bells. I saw him closing in. I knew what he wanted and what kind of person he was. I could and I should have left, and I didn’t’, his voice was trembling, ‘I deserved what I got’.

‘What you deserve is to be loved’.

The words were like a punch.

Crowley’s eyes filled with tears.

He sobbed and started to cry.

Bobby pulled him to his arms, again.

He was hurting with the other’s pain, but the facts were out in the open and the suffering was pouring out.

He held Crowley tight, offering his silent support, until the worst was over and the man in his arms felt strong enough to part.

Bobby gave him a bit of space, watching as if he feared Crowley couldn’t stand by himself.

(What he could, thank you very much.) 

‘Well’, Crowley grabbed one of Bobby’s sleeves to dry his tear-stained face, ‘That was dramatic’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘The word is cathartic, idjit’.

Crowley smiled.

And then, he laughed, because Bobby had his own fresh tears to deal with.

‘Shut up’, Bobby said and looked around, ‘Where are your damned wipes when we need one?’

‘There’s plenty of them in the bag you left in the house’.

‘Sorry, Princess, but I had your well-being in my mind. No time to think of toiletries’. 

‘You know what to say to make a girl feel special, Robert’, Crowley leaned forward to peck Bobby’s lips, ‘Here. Use my tie’.

‘No. I won’t hear the end of it’.

‘I can buy as many silk ties as I want. I could take you to my tailor and order a whole suit made of silk for you’, he swatted Bobby’s hands and used the tie to dry his cheeks, ‘This, however, is priceless’.

Bobby squinted, waiting for an explanation.

‘Tears of a soul like yours? Just imagine the spells I can do with these wonders!’

‘Stop that’, Bobby took the tie from Crowley’s hand to tug it and pull him, ‘And no ideas about you being a sugar daddy’, Bobby’s eyes went to his lips, ‘I like the witchcraft jokes. You can keep them’.

‘Uhm. I like them, too. They made me feel powerful’.

‘But?’

‘But I’m a rebel at heart’, Crowley rubbed their noses, ‘What is in it for me if I obey?’ 

‘The question is what is not in you if you don’t’.

‘Robert, love: I want you in me, but I’m into some domination. How do I decide what to do?’

‘I won’t choose for you’, Bobby smirked, ‘I just offer the win-win situations’.

Crowley was delighted.

He leaned his head to the side for their lips to join in a sweet kiss.

‘Seriously: thank you for dragging me out of there’, he spoke, his hands caressing Bobby’s chest, ‘My mind went blank’.

‘I guessed so’.

‘You’re perfect’.

‘Far from it’.

‘You’re everything I ever needed and didn’t really believe existed’.

‘Nah’.

‘You were so worried you didn’t even remember your cap in the way out’.

‘You’re embarrassing me’.

They laughed at that.

Bobby parted from Crowley, ‘Ready to go?’

Crowley shuffled his feet, ‘Back in?’

‘What? No!’, Bobby scrunched his face, ‘Let’s hit the road’.

‘Without our things?’

‘I have the truck keys and my wallet’.

‘I don’t have my apartment keys’, Crowley shrugged, sincerely distraught, ‘I’m sorry’.

‘That’s all right. I’ll get back in, pick our things, give them a sour face and come out. You can wait here’, Bobby showed his teeth in a feral smile, ‘Unless you want Castiel to hear how upset he made you’.

‘You nasty man’, Crowley answered with a smirk of his own, ‘No, I’m not in the mood for a guilt trip’.

Bobby nodded, pecked his lips and went to the house.

Crowley supported himself on the truck, eyes fixed on the front door.

As unexpected as it was, given the fact his secret had been revealed in front of the most important people in his life, he felt utterly in peace.

He had panicked, but – plot twist! - being exposed had not brought any of the scenarios his mind had conjured through the years: he had not been ridiculed, shamed or blamed. Castiel made sure to express his change of heart towards him, the Winchesters tried to preserve him from further embarrassment, Charlie stayed to herd the group and Bobby, his knight in shining armor, pulled him from the situation to a secluded place where he could listen to him, say and do just the right things. 

Crowley closed his eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the brand new feeling of lightness.

Who would say, after all he went through, that a place like Sioux Falls would turn him into a hippie, enveloped in good vibes and feeling like his soul was reborn?

He heard the door of the house and opened his eyes.

Bobby was coming towards him, a bag in one shoulder, another bag in the hand, the free hand adjusting his cap.

The man had that frowny face that meant he was in a mission, and Crowley couldn’t think of anything more adorable than that.

He reached for the bags when they were close enough, ‘Anything worth mentioning?’

‘Yeah’, Bobby gave him one bag to be able to get the truck’s keys, ‘Charlie was tearing one up at Castiel’.

‘Really?’ 

‘Boys around him, explaining you don’t say things like that as if they were not a big deal’, the bags were thrown inside, ‘Guy is lost’.

‘Now I’m confused’, Crowley said when Bobby gestured for him to enter the truck, ‘Shouldn’t we go back for the show?’

‘There’s a queen avenging you’, Bobby grinned, ‘We’ll wait for her tale’.


	16. Home

WHAT THEY SAID AS SOON AS THE TRUCK CROSSED THE YARD’S GATES AND THE PREVIOUS TENSION MELTED COMPLETELY FROM BOTH OF THEM

 

‘So, the moment for you to drive me for hours and hours has arrived’, Crowley chirped from shotgun, ‘I’m giddy. I can feel your knight in shining armor vibes from here’.

‘Maybe a knight in rusty armor’, Bobby grinned at the other’s enthusiasm, ‘We’re doing it nice and slow, with plenty of time for good music and to enjoy the landscape, as planned’.

‘It sounds like you believe something in this weekend is finally going to happen according to our so carefully crafted plans’.

‘One can hope’.

‘Uhm’, Crowley pouted, pensive, ‘Do you think we should be purposely well behaved? Like not trash-talking common acquaintances? Just to be on the safe side?’

‘What part of nice didn’t make sense to you?’

‘Just checking, darling’.

 

WHAT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT WHEN THE TRUCK ENTERED I-90

‘Not a chance’, Crowley’s eyes were drinking on the greenery by the side of the road, ‘These lovely sunny meadows can’t trigger memories from my childhood. I remember Scotland as quite misty and cold in some parts of the countryside’.

‘Like the ones you grew up?’

‘Most of the ones where I grew up’.

‘So you were not much used to sun…’, Bobby gasped in sudden realization, ‘Don’t tell me you’re a Highlander!’

‘Yes, I am. And, before you say it, yes, I just can’t be killed if you cut my head off with a special blade’. 

‘That part of the special blade you made up’.

‘I’m sowing the seeds of doubt. You only can verify it if you try it out’.

Crowley threw Bobby a smirk.

Bobby glared in return.

‘It was just a joke, Robert’.

‘You do me a favor: don’t even joke about me wanting to get rid of you’, Bobby scoffed, indignant, ‘It feels like I’ve been waiting for years for us to be together. This week lasted a decade!’

‘It’s the amount of plot twists, love’.

‘At least we managed to take our heads off our asses’.

‘I beg to disagree on that. At least, I hope we get more and more intimate with each other’s arses’.

‘I meant that as-Balls’.

‘Oh, yes, those too’.

Bobby was ready to grunt something that intended to convey discontentment, but then he heard Crowley’s laugh and pretending he didn’t enjoy the tease didn’t make sense.

 

FORTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, AFTER A HEATED DEBATE ON THE MERITS OF SOCCER OVER BASKETBALL

‘About that thing you said…’, Crowley changed his position, bare feet up, ‘It does feel like ten years have passed by since you asked for a minute of my attention to invite me to meet your boys’.

‘Uhum’.

‘However, I have the clear memory of you running out the room to die of embarrassment out of my sight’.

‘That was not how it happened’.

‘You mean the embarrassment? Because you ran’. 

‘Yeah, the embarrassment’.

‘Well, if you had your cap on you would have hidden under it before running through the door. That quite looked like embarrassment, to me’.

‘It was not’.

‘Care to clarify, then?’

‘As much as I wanted to take you to meet Sam and Dean – well, as much as I wanted to spend time with you far from our usual routines –, I thought it was a foolish thing to do. In my head, there was no way you in Sioux Falls could end well’.

‘You thought I wouldn’t enjoy your charming hometown?’

‘Well, you’re rich and used to fancy things’.

‘Nothing you call fancy can compare to what you offered me’, Crowley stated earnestly, ‘Just the dusty scrap yard was already filled with so many memories I felt something in my soul while I covered the distance between the gates and your front door’. 

‘And you didn’t feel out of place?’

‘Absolutely’, Crowley smiled, ‘But not in a bad way’. 

‘That’s nice to hear’.

‘I could see more of you and the life you lived in every corner of the old house, in every word spoken by the male models you adopted, in every story Sheriff Mills told, in every city spot you showed me’, he paused for a moment, then added, ‘Even the middle-aged women who don’t miss an opportunity to paw you showed me things’, he pursed his lips in thought, ‘Considering the small amount of data I collected, I’d say it seems a quite fun place to live’.

‘Are you implying you wouldn’t mind moving to Sioux Falls?’

‘I say potato, you say potato – literally, in fact…’

‘Very funny’.

‘…But what I mean is that those things – your house, the yard, the library, the Police Station, your sons, the pawing neighbors – every little thing is part of your story. It helped me understand from where some of your charming traits come from. It showed me more layers of you’.

‘M’ not ham to be layered for your consumption’.

‘I was thinking more along the lines of a coroner studying a body, but it seems you can’t get the idea of me with you in my mouth out of your mind’.

‘I’m not answering that’.

 

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Bobby rested a hand comfortably on Crowley’s, ‘You know what’s crazy?’

‘What, darling?’

‘When I wondered about this – this weekend – I realized I couldn’t even guess what it would be like. I mean, I had no idea what was gonna happen. I knew I wanted you to like my things, and my family, and if it happened I wished I had the guts to take your hand-’

‘Like this?’

‘Like this’, Bobby entwined their fingers, ‘I wished I could say something to make clear how I felt’, he shook his head, ‘Nothing went like that. You couldn’t come, but then Sam called to say you were there; and we talked, and then we didn’t need to talk, we figured things out and we got together…’

‘I see what you mean’, Crowley was staring at the joined hands close to Bobby’s thigh, ‘It was simpler than expected’.

‘Yeah. And it’s great as it is’.

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way, love’.

 

TWO HOURS AND A HALF LATER, AFTER A QUICK STOP FOR GAS, BATHROOM AND A STRETCH, WHEN THE TRUCK REENTERED THE MAIN ROAD

 

‘But Sheriff Mills arrested you because you forgot to have any IDs with you?’, Crowley was surprised, ‘It sounds petty coming from our Jody’.

‘It served me well. I had just got the boys’ papers. Had to put my whole life in order and she gave me a fright to point it up’.

‘I kind of like her style’

‘It works’.

‘Dean and Sam spent the night by themselves?’

‘That’s the thing: she knew Dean was used to take care of Sam, but she knew I had promised myself it wouldn’t happen again, too. So, she picked the boys up at school, took them to her house to have a meal and a sleepover and told them some story about that being a favor because I was running errands for her’.

‘Jody Mills goes to any extent to prove her points, then?’

‘As long as no one gets hurt but a guy’s pride, yeah’.

‘She sounds as impressive as she looked like’.

‘She is’.

Crowley leaned his head, analyzing his partner, ‘You must have worried all night’.

‘Made a ditch from pacing until she came in the morning to explain what she had done, give me back my things and escort me to my truck’.

‘That’s a glorious way to teach someone a lesson’.

‘Don’t get any ideas’.

‘Me? Never’. 

A pause.

‘However, you can get as many creative ideas as they come to you. I’m completely open to any lessons you bring on, darling’.

 

TWO MINUTES INTO ‘COUNTRY ROADS, TAKE ME HOME’ 

 

‘I like Don’t Close Your Eyes Tonight better’.

‘It’s a good song, but it’s not country’.

‘It’s John Denver. Close enough’.

‘The focus is not the singer, but the spirit of it’.

‘Give up, Robert. You’re not convincing me to listen to country music if slow dancing is not involved’.

‘I can’t dance if my life depends on it’.

‘I don’t believe it’s so bad’.

‘It is’.

‘Was prom a nightmarish experience to you, like we see in North-American bad teen movies?’

‘No’, Bobby grumbled, ‘Karen helped me out’.

‘I am not a religious person, but she makes me wish there was an afterlife where we could meet, so I can tell her how incredible she was’, Crowley gave a sincere smile and, seeing Bobby’s watery one, resumed the previous train of thought, ‘Well, you’ve made exactly my point: slow dancing is about being at easy with someone. It worked then because it was Karen, and it will work when we do it because it is me’.

‘I’ll give it a thought’.

‘Just picture it in your mind: the two of us, low lights, someone crooning lovingly in the record. You set your hands on my waist. My hips move. My hands caress your back, then find their way up. I’ll pull you against me until I can whisper in your ear all I want you to do to me…’, Crowley threw a glance at Bobby, just to make sure he was as flustered as expected, and concluded, ‘When you realize, you’ll be coming with me’.

The driver huffed, ‘I kind of admire the way you can turn any subject into innuendo’.

‘I don’t do such a thing!’

‘And deny it’.

 

SOON AFTER FINISHING A BOTTLE OF ORANGE JUICE THEY SHARED

‘If I didn’t know how much you love your boys, I’d say you had fun leaving them to deal with that awkward situation’.

‘There was not much else to do if you going back to the house was out of question’.

‘I hope you know how much I appreciate your quick thinking’. 

‘It was not a big deal’, Bobby shrugged, ‘I knew what not to do’.

‘Knowing what to do or not to do is a rare quality. Some people think the key is discerning between Good and Evil, but we know better. Things are a lot more complex than that’.

‘Sometimes you don’t have the time to make a list of pros and cons. You follow your gut and pray to make the right choice’.

Crowley noticed the change in Bobby’s demeanor – the sudden heaviness in his voice and the pained eyes he tried to hide under the cap. 

Crowley knew Bobby worried about things in his past and feared judgement. He guessed whatever happened had to do with morally dubious hurried decisions that haunted the man to this day. 

‘I think the heart qualifies as gut’, Crowley spoke as softly as he could, ‘Sometimes it is all we have’.

Bobby pressed his lips and nodded, acknowledging with a gesture what his constricted throat didn’t permit him to say.

 

FIVE MINUTES OF SILENCE LATER

‘Look’, Bobby breathed deeply and cleared his throat, ‘I… You know…’

‘No, I don’t’, Crowley interrupted when the words didn’t come out of his partner, ‘But when you feel ready to tell me more about decisions taken in the heat of the moment and with no certainty of good and evil, I’ll be all ears’, he saw the other man’s shoulder relax, ‘It doesn’t have to be now. It doesn’t have to be soon. It must happen when you feel it’s going to help you to feel better in anyway’, he sighed dramatically, ‘Even if I’m terribly curious’.

Bobby let out a relieved chuckle, ‘Thank you’.

‘I’m learning to act on my empathy skills’, Crowley spoke and reached out to mess with the driver’s cap, ‘You’re such a wonderful role model’.

Bobby lifted an arm as if to swat the hand off, but grabbed it to press his lips against it, ‘If I were you wouldn’t be pestering’.

‘Are you going to kiss me every time I mess with your clothes?’

‘You’ll find out’.

 

 

HALF AN HOUR LATER

‘I can barely imagine the ‘sour face’ you did at them when you entered the house for the bags’.

‘Didn’t need to do any faces, in the end. Charlie was so happy to be lecturing them I could hear her speech through the door’.

‘That’s my girl!’

‘Everybody turned to look at me, the boys with their mouths open like dead fishes’. 

‘Bunch of morons – and I say it with all the affection they deserve from me’.

‘Uhum’, Bobby let it go, ‘Charlie asked about you’.

‘Such a darling…’

‘I said you were well enough, picked our things and left’.

‘Castiel didn’t try to talk to you?’

‘Didn’t manage’.

‘That guilty?’

‘Puppy face and all’.

‘Pup-Oh, dear! I completely forgot Rufus!’

‘What about him?’

‘I didn’t say goodbye!’

‘And?’

‘For God sake, Robert! He’ll think I don’t care!’

Bobby rolled his eyes, ‘Don’t fuss. Send an audio to Charlie’.

‘You’re a genius! I’ll tell her to play it to him’.

‘I meant to calm her down’.

‘Oh’, Crowley looked at his phone, ‘Well, I’m sending it anyway’.

‘You’re like Sam: sometimes worry more about dogs than people’.

‘I worry about poor beasts who can’t understand how we feel if we don’t show it clearly’.

‘You’re describing people, too’.

‘You have a point’. 

‘So?’

‘Right. I’ll send her a message to assure her of my well-being. But not now – I don’t want to tamp down her worry in case she needs it to be harsh on the angel’.

‘Ok’.

‘And I’ll ask her to show Rufus the shot of us kissing, so he sees us together and understands I’m going to be back when you are’.

 

THIRTY SECONDS OF SILENCE LATER

‘If I park the truck for a moment, can we take a decent shot of us together for you to send her?’

‘If I can use it as my wallpaper from now on’.

‘On the phone?’

‘Phone, laptop, anything with a wallpaper’.

‘Not living room’.

‘Robert!’

The pretense of scandal lasted until Bobby let out a big laugh.

‘You’re so endearingly clever’, Crowley sighed, ‘It’s disconcerting’.

 

LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES ON THE ROAD AGAIN, AFTER TAKING A SELFIE TO WHAT CHARLIE WOULD LATER REPLY WITH ‘YOU’RE THE CUTEST COUPLE IN THE WORLD!!!’ 

 

‘What’s with the happiness, Robert?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about’.

‘You didn’t stop beaming since we took the picture. Not that I don’t find your smile devastatingly beautiful, but it’s creepy if I don’t know what is going on’.

‘It’s just the way things are’. 

‘Things like?’

‘You grinning for the shot, hugging me. You saying earlier that we’ll be back to Sioux Falls together as if there was no other way things could go’, Bobby adjusted his cap flippantly, ‘I like it when you sound confident. Make me feel like I’m doing something right’.

‘I go around making assumptions about our relationship and you find it a good thing?’

‘Yeah’, he was grinning even widely, ‘I like my demon’.

‘Oh, please’, Crowley was grinning himself.

‘And you know what else? You’re not just a demon. You’re the King of demons’, Bobby spoke joyfully, ‘That’s why you keep calling me your knight’.

Crowley reddened, ‘I thought I was your princess’.

‘As long as you feel like royalty, I’m happy’.

Crowley chuckled, ‘You’re immersed in the joys of a job well done’.

‘Yeah’.

‘And you didn’t even do me properly, yet’.

‘Hey!’

 

 

IN THE FIRST REDLIGHT BACK TO THE CITY

Crowley sighed dramatically.

Bobby, amused, planted a hand on the other’s thigh, ‘Problem?’

Crowley visibly enjoyed the intimate gesture, ‘Just an ounce of anxiety’. 

‘Any clear reason?’

‘Yes’. 

‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Uhum’, he sighed again, this time to settle his breathing, ‘I’m not sure exactly what it means to be back’.

‘You mean to Hell’s Bells, after the arrests?’

‘Yes. Of course, I have you and Charlie to fall back on, if it is needed...’, Crowley pursed his lips in discontentment, ‘However, we don’t really know what is needed’.

‘Surely things are going to change’, Bobby pondered, ‘I’m surprised there is no memo or e-mail, yet’.

‘Exactly’, Crowley moved on the seat, gesturing, ‘So, the question stands: what does it mean to be back? What stays the same? What will never be the same again?’

‘Maybe it helps changing the point of view’, Bobby said when they were moving again.

‘Go on’.

‘A lot happened’. 

‘You can say so’.

‘I kind of feel like we’re not really back, because we can’t see things the way we did, before. We’re different people from last week. Damn, we’re different from this morning’.

‘Surprisingly, for the better’.

‘Why the surprise?’, Bobby’s fingers played with Crowley’s inner thigh, ‘Good things happen’.

‘You’ve been proving me that over and over. However…’, Crowley turned a bit on the seat to look at the man driving, seizing the brief moment when he had to take his hand off to change gears, ‘What if this whole lovey-dovey thing between us has ruined me for Hell’s Bells? What if I’m not prepared to deal with whatever they’re going to throw at me?’

‘Lovey-dovey?’, Bobby scoffed.

‘Excuse me if my vocabulary is not fitting to something so sweet. You had Karen, but I’m new to this… this…’, he hissed, ‘…feelings’.

‘Get your claws in. I get it’. 

‘So, now that we sorted my completely justified inadequacies out, what was your piece of wisdom on my existential crossroad?’

‘I think you should wait and see. Maybe nothing is going to change right now. Maybe a lot will change and you’ll be called in to have a word, maybe not. Maybe you’ll love every minute of the power games’, Bobby shrugged, ‘Or maybe you’re right and, after what we’ve been sharing, you’ll find out you don’t feel at home there, anymore’.

‘I have called home very few places in my life, and Hell’s Bells definitively was not among them’.

Bobby just nodded, respecting the seriousness of that statement.

‘Since I’ve met you…’, Crowley murmured, looking ahead, ‘Home is where you are’.

Bobby saw that the moment the words left his lips, Crowley flinched as if he had been punched, hands clenched, eyes shut.

He maneuvered the truck into a parking spot.

When it stopped and the engine was turned off, Crowley opened his eyes, ‘Sorry. It was too much’, he moved his jaw to undo some of the tension there, ‘I don’t know what comes over me. Sometimes I just say these things’.

‘Hey. That was beautiful’, Bobby turned to him, a gentle hand talking one of his to ease it in his warmth, ‘That’s how I feel, too. Just hadn’t found the words to express how nice it is’.

Crowley blinked in surprise, ‘I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing’.

‘You said a deep emotional thing and then you felt overwhelmed’, Bobby clarified, ‘And I’m telling you that’ great, because I get overwhelmed before even saying anything that emotional’.

‘No, it’s not about being overwhelmed. I meant…’, he forced the next words through a very old wound, ‘I don’t want to smother you, but when I realize I am saying something that sounds like I…’

‘Like you feel so good with me you want this to last forever?’

‘Yes’.  
Bobby smiled, ‘Well, what I said: you’re not alone in this’.

Crowley’s pained face broke into an adoring smile, ‘You always know what to say’, he leaned a bit closer, ‘Would you mind terribly if I kissed you now?’

‘We’re parked in front of our coffee shop’.

Crowley felt a knot in his throat at the ‘our’ being used so naturally, ‘They’re quite progressive’.

‘So am I’.

They closed the distance between them for a kiss that was just a little longer than a peck, and included the slightest hint of tongue permitted in a public display of affection.

(Even if it was Sunday and not many people circulated in the streets.) 

When they parted, their eyes kept locked.

Crowley’s smoldering eyes on him flustered Bobby.

He was the one to use tongue, and now he was finding the reactions he evoked irresistible.

Realizing his lover’s dilemma, Crowley broke eye contact, straightening his tie and looking outside, ‘Once we are here, would you like to grab something?’

Bobby cleared his throat and made a gesture to the building outside, ‘I thought some food may give us a clear head’, he adjusted his pants, ‘We can eat here, if you want’.

‘It would be adorable’, Crowley’s smile saddened a bit while he put his shoes and picked his overcoat, ‘How gentlemanly of you to feed me before leaving, by the way’.

Bobby scrunched his nose, ‘Leaving?’

‘I guess you are itchy to get back to your apartment’.

‘You guessed wrong’. 

‘Did I?’

‘Were your ears closed when I said I’ve been waiting to be with you for more time than I care to think of?’

Crowley’s brows raised in surprise.

‘The universe gave me the opportunity to have a partner like you while I’m not too old to enjoy him and you think I’m letting it go through my fingers?’

Crowley’s mouth opened, but he didn’t find what to say.

‘You’re not getting rid of me so quick. You’re not staying by yourself, obsessing over Hell’s Bells. Not on my watch’.

Crowley beamed.

Feeling like the proverbial – and already mentioned – knight in shining armor, Bobby got off the truck, circled it and opened the door for his partner, ‘I’m going to take you home and stay with you until you’re so bored you find a way to kick me out’.

Crowley accepted the unnecessary helping hand to disembark, ‘It’s never happening’.

‘Good’, Bobby nodded, ‘Cause it would be an ugly scene…’, he closed the door, ‘Honey’.

Crowley giggled at the pet name, shuffling his well-tailored black coat on.

‘Besides’, Bobby added, turning for them to walk side by side, one hand on the other’s lower back, ‘We have a compromise’.

‘I like the sound of it’, Crowley was joyful, ‘What are you referring specifically to?’

‘You said you could be loud when you’re engaged and not in a house full of kids’, Bobby spoke nonchalantly, ‘I’m curious’.

‘Oh’.

Crowley had some difficulties to walk normally.

He fussed with the front of his coat.

‘Unless the mood is ruined for the weekend…’, Bobby added, still calm and collected, ‘…I don’t want to wait more than necessary to have you again’.

‘Would you stop being the hottest man alive for a moment?!’, Crowley hissed, adjusting his trousers, ‘You’re making me embarrass myself in my neighborhood’.

‘No one’s going to see under that’, Bobby made a gesture to the ever present black overcoat while he held the door of the coffee shop open.

‘You’re not the only one who can wear a thousand layers’, Crowley squinted, then smiled at the gentlemanly gesture, ‘Thank you’.

‘If you’re afraid to be embarrassed, next time you can stay in the truck’, Bobby followed the other man to the section with their favorite pastries, ‘I’ll have a ‘beware of dog’ sign on the glass’.

Crowley spoke as if commenting on a loaf he had picked to inspect in a nearby shelf, ‘If you want some biting, you just have to ask’.

Bobby leaned just a bit closer – enough to whisper in the other’s ear and look like he was, too, inspecting the loaf, ‘I prefer licking’.

Crowley gulped down soundly, licked his own lips and answered, still as if he was focused on the bread, ‘Stop being a tease’.

Bobby was going to make a joke, but suddenly there was a very serious face and a heated stare on him.

He could see the emotions he brought on that man, exposed right there in front of him. It spoke of all the little things they have been sharing and of the fact they would do anything for the other.

‘Pick our favorites’, Bobby said, in a silky voice, ‘I’ll get a table for us’.

Crowley nodded.

Bobby reached out and held Crowley’s free hand as a parting gesture.

The businessman sighed, ‘You realize discretion is not a possibility with the amount of love I feel for you?’

The former hunter and current main assistant just smirked, lifted the hand to kiss it and let go, walking away to choose a table.

Crowley stood there, watching for some moments.

Bobby moved as if he owned the place; and Crowley, who always felt like he needed to be the one in control, was invaded by a sensation of safety.

Robert trusted him – to choose what they were going to eat, to respect the man's time and be there when he was ready to reveal more about himself.

He trusted Robert – to choose a table for them, to be there when he needed to be reassured that he deserved to be loved.

Crowley looked at the bread in his hand, then at the variety of pastries in the showcase.

So many paths of Fate, so many possibilities in the world and, against all odds, they had met, were together and fitting into each other’s lives completely.

Crowley shook his head and raised his arm to call the amused clerk who had been watching him, probably wondering why on Earth the sight of croissants had moved the man to tears.


	17. Into my arms

Crowley wondered many times why he had bought a parking spot with the apartment. It kind of occurred to him that he may be subconsciously expecting some big change in his way to organize life, once he was spending money on it even if he didn’t have a car nor intended to have one in the foreseeing future. 

Now that parking spot was a solution for Bobby’s truck.

(Well, maybe some things were meant to be.)

Obviously, the thing clashed with its surroundings. He tried to focus on how liberating it was that he couldn’t care less about his neighbors’ opinions, but the truth was he just found it all devastatingly endearing.

Such corniness would be worrying in any other point of his life.

Not now.

 

xxx

 

When the doors of the elevator closed, both men found themselves rolling their shoulders and stretching their backs.

It was like they were in fact feeling that the journey was over and they were preparing to glide through the next threshold.

‘So’, Bobby asked, giving Crowley a once-over that was very, very, dubious in its intents, ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Good’, Crowley answered easily, rubbing his face with his hands, ‘Relieved that things are out in the open, a bit tired, but so glad to be with you that a shower and a change of clothes are going to solve everything’, he lowered his hands, ‘Erase that: a shower and no clothes are going to solve everything’.

‘I like those plans’.

Crowley smirked and winked at him.

Bobby bit his lower lip.

 

xxx

 

When the elevator reached their floor, two flustered and disheveled men stepped out.

(Like the suspicious bunch they were, before stepping out both took a look to be sure no one was there and they didn’t need to appear more presentable.) 

‘Let’s not tell anyone about my high spirits, yet, darling’, Crowley spoke while he looked for his keys, ‘Specially Castiel’.

‘Got it’, Bobby assured him, taking the other’s bag to help.

‘And, just in case it’s not clear enough already…’, Crowley found the keys and managed to put the right one in the lock, even with the slightly trembling hand he had at the moment, ‘I appreciate the fact you’re staying with me not for some misplaced feeling of uneasiness’, the door opened, ‘I’m happy you’re staying because you are delightful company’.

‘Uhum’, Bobby said, following him into the apartment and closing the door behind them.

‘Don’t mock me, Robert’.

‘I’m not. I believe you like me being here’, Bobby walked down the corridor after Crowley, ‘Just don’t know what to do of you not talking about the arrests. I kind of expected you to be celebrating, after the effort you put in it’.

It took the other man some moments to answer. 

They arrived in the bedroom and he indicated a spot for Bobby to deposit the bags before answering, ‘I don’t think I’ll ever celebrate’, he stated, sitting on the bed to take off his shoes, ‘He is not free to harass people. He is not free to wander Hell’s Bells corridors and terrorize me. That was my goal and I accomplished it. But it’s not something to be happy about. It’s something to lament that even had to happen’.

‘He’s in jail and he’ll rot there’, Bobby was watching him, ‘No one’s going to suffer at his hands again’. 

Crowley nodded.

Bobby felt there was more to come, and waited.

‘You know what was more stressing?’, Crowley resumed speaking, ‘The uncertainty. He was part of the main board, but they never announced who would be in the meetings. Sometimes I arrived and he was there; sometimes he entered with such delay no one thought he would come, anymore; and sometimes the meeting was over and he was there, at a random corner, just to taunt me’. 

‘It sounds like a haunting’, Bobby commented, ‘Or a very bad memory. Something that assaults you when you least expect just to bring you down’.

‘He was like a monster’.

‘Something that bumps in the dark waiting for the perfect time to attack is a monster’, Bobby spoke and sat on the bed besides Crowley, ‘No matter what you do, no matter how much you prepare yourself, it always finds a breach’.

He spoke and took off his cap.

Crowley was moved by how fragile Bobby looked, his shoulders slumped, eyes fixed on the cap in his hands.

It was his time to wait, because there was, certainly, more.

‘My father used to beat me and my mom’, Bobby suddenly said, still looking down, ‘Not because he was drunk, or because he had problems at work. There was no real reason. He just picked on whatever we did that annoyed him and that was it’.

Crowley spoke as softly as he could, ‘It was just the three of you?’

Bobby nodded.

Silence.

Crowley remembered Bobby saying that things got better when his father was gone.

He decided to take a guess, ‘How did he die?’

‘I shot him’, Bobby’s voice trembled.

Crowley gulped down the knot in his throat.

‘We were having dinner. I knocked off a glass, and he started rambling on how useless and stupid I was. I got sick’, he breathed deeply, ‘Mom tried to distract him, but he was already in a roll’.

Crowley’s heart accelerated. He understood completely how things like those, coming from a parent, can mark your soul.

‘He was yelling at me. He punched the table, more things broke. Mother tried to calm him down and he turned to hit her’, he clenched his jaw, ‘And I ran to get his gun’.

Crowley put a hand on Bobby’s. 

‘He saw me pointing the gun at him and laughed. He pushed her and came to me, with a smirk on his face. I knew it was going to be ugly, that time’, his eyes raised to Crowley’s, ‘I had gone too far’.

‘And you shot him’.

He nodded, ‘Hit the melon. He fell dead on the spot’.

‘How old were you?’

‘Ten’.

Crowley’s mouth opened in shock.

Bobby looked away, ‘My mom told everybody it had been an accident, and life went on’.

‘Love’, Crowley passed his free arm on Bobby’s shoulders and pulled him closer, ‘I’m so sorry you had to do that’.

Bobby looked at him, surprised.

‘You were a child who was raised with violence. You reached your limit and placed all your bets on taking a stand against the monster that called himself your father. Thus, you had to do something, and you did’.

Bobby turned his hand to hold Crowley’s.

‘I was tortured as a child, too, in other ways. I carry the scars of that with me until today’, his eyes were earnest, ‘I won’t judge your reaction to such a thing. The monster lashed back and we’ll never know what horrors he could have submitted you to, if you haven’t acted’.

Bobby’s eyes watered.

‘When I opened up about my past, I said I was grateful to whatever entity was responsible for the turns of Fate that brought us together’, Crowley offered a smile, ‘I’m sorry you had to do it, but I’m glad someone as good and generous as you found the strength to defend himself and be alive and well to make the difference in so many people’s lives –the Winchesters, Charlie’s…’, he held the hand in his tighter, ‘Mine’.

The tears fell, but Bobby was smiling through them.

Crowley felt his heart flutter at the sight, ‘And you said Charlie was right to feel like the world was getting better, for we may be in the best reality possible, remember?’, he went serious, ‘In other realities, we may have never met for a series of bad reasons – not surviving childhood, or surviving so scarred that we took harsh decisions that ruined any chances of us being functional adults. In others, we may have not met because the universe is chaotic – maybe I never came to America, or never met Lilith, or you found a good job and never accepted Charlie’s invitation to come to Hell’s Bells…’

‘In another you were a demon and I was a hunter of supernatural entities’, Bobby’s smile was teasing, ‘And I would be too entangled with you to do something that would really hurt’.

‘I bet you would shoot me, even knowing it would just ruin my clothes’.

‘Yeah’, Bobby chuckled, ‘I would’.

‘I almost like that universe’, Crowley smiled, ‘You think you, a seasoned hunter, would give me a cactus as a romantic gesture, in that reality?’

‘If I gave it you would keep it?’ 

‘In my throne room’.

‘You would be King of Hell?’

‘You think I would be just a random demon?’

‘And your Hell would have a throne room and all?’

‘It’s my Hell. I would make it classy’.

‘You sure would’.

They fell silent, hands joined, Crowley’s arm still around Bobby’s back.

The moment was peaceful.

Crowley spoke in a whisper, ‘I can’t imagine a reality better than this one. I don’t want to wonder what could have been. What matters to me is that we’re here, together’, his fingers caressed Bobby’s hand delicately, his tone getting a bit lighter, ‘Have I ever mentioned how emotionally discombobulated I was until you entered my life, shook me to the core and made everything infinitely better?’

‘You said I had been messing with you in good ways’, Bobby sniffed and dried his cheeks, definitively ending the difficult moment, ‘Didn’t use long fancy words’.

‘It’s so cute when you pretend not to be a well-read gentleman’.

That made Bobby laugh, and he turned to Crowley, ‘Thank you’.

Crowley pondered on making a joke on not deserving gratitude for stating the truth, but he knew exactly what those words meant.

So, he looked Bobby right in the eyes and caressed his beard, ‘You’re always welcome’.

Bobby smiled, ‘You, too’.

Crowley nodded, closing his eyes for a moment in that feline-like gesture of affection.

‘You know’, Bobby shook his head, ‘I didn’t plan crying on you’.

‘No. You planned sexy times’, Crowley smiled at the other’s laugh, ‘But I’m glad we had this conversation. The untold story was bothering you. Now you’re free to ravish me without any moral worries’, he leaned closer and lowered his voice, ‘Did you know I put my phone on mute there in the bakery?’

That perked Bobby up, ‘You’re always prepared, aren’t you?’

‘Like a girl scout’.

 

Xxx

 

Crowley remembers clearly that they started helping each other to take off their clothes.

He remembers himself shivering under Bobby’s gentle touches and the way he explored his skin with fingertips and lips.

(He had fantasized about that beard. Now he had it.)

He remembers asking playfully if Bobby minded him not really helping the process, given the excitement taking him, and the husky voice whispering ‘You can just stand here and look pretty’.

Crowley felt smitten and emotional in the best of ways; so, he surrendered to Bobby taking his sweet time unveiling and savoring his body. 

He doesn’t remember who took the initiative, but he knows at some point they moved into the shower area and used the washcloths, and Bobby enlaced him with strong arms, their fronts flushed against each other, the water running between them and then with no space for it.

And Bobby pressed him against a wall, and the warmth on his chest, the cold tiles on his back and the unrelenting exploration turned everything into sensation and pleasure. 

Crowley pulled Bobby closer, moaned the man’s name…

Some words were whispered in his ear and he just managed to articulate a moronic, ‘Uh?’

‘Let’s go to bed, hun’.

 

Xxx

 

Yes, that he remembers – one of them turned off the shower, Bobby’s fond voice told him something about not turning the bed into a pool, the strong arms, eager lips and tongue and, maybe, a towel drying him. 

He remembers his erection was almost painful at that point, and that it took away all his non-patience (patience was a virtue he didn’t really have).

He remembers sitting on the bed, Bobby leaning forward to kiss him slowly, capturing his lips in a way that didn’t help clearing his mind.

He remembers a question about lube and his gesture to point vaguely at the nightstand, and he remembers his whine when he realized that Bobby had to part from him to get it.

He remembers feeling dizzy because he tried to pull Bobby to him while the man approached the nightstand, and he remembers Bobby’s chuckle filling the room, and it was the sweetest sound, and then Crowley was tumbled on the bed, a lubed finger teasing and entering him while their tongues massaged each other and their limbs entwined in something that felt like wrestling, so desperate he was to have Bobby all against and inside him.

At some point he remembers himself shivering, grabbing Bobby’s face and looking him deep in the eyes to make sure he heard how wonderful it felt and how much he needed more.

The finger went out, and Bobby settled between his thighs. 

Crowley remembers the head of a hard cock brushing against his hole and he supposed he had whimpered or begged or whatever, because Bobby suddenly asked, ‘Sure you don’t wanna slow down?’

And, well, those words slowed time down.

Crowley relaxed on the bed – his back against the mattress, legs spread open –, mind suddenly clear, and reached out to caress the beard, ‘Don’t you dare’, he breathed deeply, a new calmness taking him, ‘We have all the time in the world to be gentle. I need you, as quick as possible’.

Bobby squinted, ‘I can be quick and gentle’.

‘Oh, darling’, Crowley growled, ‘Show me those skills’.

Bobby smiled, gave Crowley a kiss and straightened his back.

He got to his knees and caressed Crowley’s thighs.

He noticed the open mouth and the frown on Crowley’s forehead, ‘You’re all right?’

‘You look like a god’, Crowley held his legs higher to offer himself, ‘Do whatever you want to me. You can’t go wrong’.

Bobby leaned a bit forward, his fingertips travelling by Crowley’s skin – tracing his shoulders, his chest, his navel – until they settled on his hips.

Their eyes met again.

‘Take it easy’, Bobby took hold of one of Crowley’s legs and supported it on his shoulder, ‘I’ve got you’.

Crowley moaned when Bobby positioned himself, teasing his entrance and starting the pressure.

Bobby put an open hand over Crowley’s heart and pushed forward. 

Time went even slower.

Crowley felt every inch of himself being stretched and filled; he felt Bobby’s thighs rubbing between his; he felt the gentle but firm strength of the hand holding him down against the mattress; he felt the desire in the stare holding his.

He arched his back and moved his hips, ‘Come on, pet. Give me everything you’ve got’.

‘Why so eager, Princess?’, Bobby chuckled, ‘Let me fill you little by little’.

Crowley groaned, indignant on the gall Robert had to find his desperation amusing, but the man cut him off with some pounding and he saw stars.

He moaned and whimpered, his whole body tensing as if on the verge of an orgasm, but still not quite there.

He reached out a hand to press the base of his cock and make sure he was not coming already, but Bobby noticed what he was doing and was quicker: he changed the pace, leaning forward to cover Crowley’s body with his and stop everything for a round of wet kisses.

‘Didn’t know you enjoyed torture, Robert’, Crowley managed to say when their mouths separated.

‘Why d’you say that?’ 

Bobby spoke nuzzling his cheek and neck with his beard, and Crowley shivered, ‘You know what I mean’.

Instead of answering, Bobby grabbed him by the nape with one hand and by the hip with the other, and started sucking his neck while moving in and out.

Crowley found himself howling his lover’s name.

Bobby went the deepest he could and started grinding.

He hit the right spot, and Crowley’s hands flew to grab the man’s ass, his ankles crossing behind his thighs.

‘You feel so good’, Bobby whispered against Crowley’s ear.

‘Come inside me’.

‘You want it?’

‘Please’.

‘Damn. I love you so much’.

‘I love you, too, Robert. Nothing ever felt like this’. 

‘You’re mine’.

‘Yes. I am’.

‘And I’m yours forever’.

Bobby finished the sentence and tensed, letting out a long groan when the climax hit him. 

Crowley felt the cock pulsing inside him, heard the pleasure in the other man’s voice, and his own orgasm exploded.

They rode the moment together, joined in an iron grip. 

When Bobby’s body relaxed, he slipped off and maneuvered until he was laying on his side, and arm and one leg possessively thrown across Crowley.

(Yes, Robert Singer was a cuddler.)

Crowley held the hand on his side and sighed, closing his eyes and bathing in the feeling of being surrounded by that man.

Bobby’s voice was a whisper against his temple, ‘I mean what I said’, he nuzzled Crowley’s hair with his nose, ‘I’m yours’.

‘I believe it, and I hope you believe the other way around’, Crowley answered softly, his free hand finding the beard to caress it, ‘After all, you have just taken me’.

Bobby chuckled, ‘You’re perfect’, he entwined the fingers of their joined hands, ‘You’ll have me for as long as you want me’.

‘So… That thing about me keeping your soul…?’

‘I’m in’.

Crowley turned his head to look into Bobby’s eyes, ‘Let’s seal it, my Prince’.

Bobby smiled, eyes heavy with sleep, and leaned forward for their lips to touch tenderly.

(Well, it was kind of tender. In fact, Bobby always slipped a bit of tongue, and Crowley couldn’t resist an invitation, so they ended up in a kiss that just didn’t restart the whole process because they were worn out from the day.)

 

 

xxx

 

Crowley usually didn’t sleep after sex. An unhappy marriage, one night stands and orgies never made him relaxed when things were over. 

However, both times he had gone to bed with Robert he felt so satisfied and safe, afterwards, that he fell asleep.

He slept so deeply, that night, that he woke up to find out he was still in the same position, laying on his back, the nice weight of Bobby pressed against his side.

However, the hand that had been holding his was now cupping his balls, rolling them in its warm palm.

Crowley stirred a bit and smiled lazily at his partner, ‘That’s some greeting’.

‘It’s nice touching you’.

‘You’re good at that’.

‘So I can keep doing it?’

‘As much as you wish’.

‘All the time?’

‘If you’re aware of our surroundings, yes, all the time, and going further when the settling and circumstances are fitting’.

‘You’re back to big words. Waken enough, then’, Bobby said, stretched to pick the lube, put a generous amount of it in his hand and settled back besides Crowley, his coated hand massaging the man’s cock and balls.

‘Robert, I…’, Crowley gasped at the sudden stimulation, then moaned, ‘Uhmmm… What are you planning?’

‘I want to know your body in and out’, the hand traced the curves of his cock, ‘I want a mental map of you’.

‘Oh, dear…’

‘I see you have some interesting things going on here where your bathing suit goes’, Bobby smirked.

Crowley rolled his eyes in what could be for not being amused by the reference but probably was a sign of uncontrolled pleasure.

Bobby pressed the head of the member, ‘This pretty boy here wants to come out and play with me?’

‘I don’t know’, Crowley chuckled, ‘He seems to have his own head’.

‘It means you don’t control him?’, Bobby’s voice was teasing, ‘I’m glad I can catch his interest, then’.

Crowley sighed, ‘Me, too’.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

After last round, Crowley picked one of his silky robes, offered another to Bobby and invited him to munch something in the kitchen.

Bobby stated ‘he didn’t need no robe, thank you very much’, that he didn’t mind walking around nude for the time being – ‘unless someone has something against it’ – and glared.

Crowley found it the cutest thing.

He smiled (patronizingly, on purpose) and stood by the door, graciously gesturing the way, still offering the robe.

When grumpy Bobby passed by and grabbed the robe from his hand, Crowley slapped the man’s ass just for principle.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

They prepared some sandwiches, shared some wine, chatted and cleaned up.

While Crowley finished in the sink, Bobby sat on a chair to search the web for news, found out Hell’s Bells’ official statement on the prisons and read it out loud.

‘It doesn’t say a thing’, Bobby glared at the phone when he finished reading the brief text, ‘If they had put ‘Wait. We’re thinking’ it would be clearer’.

‘Charlie was on point when she said you are great at summarizing’, Crowley looked around the kitchen to check if there was anything else to do, decided there was not and stretched his back.

He approached the table and took a look at his own cellphone.

Bobby got up, ‘Nothing?’

‘Not a word’.

‘You’re worried?’

‘With not being included in the plans?’

‘Uhum’.

Strong hands reached for his shoulders from behind, and Crowley relaxed, ‘I think I’m anxious. It’s never good to be out of the loop in that place’. 

‘You’re used to be ten steps ahead’.

‘I’m aware that that business is not my responsibility, but I feel like I’m entitled to news’.

‘First, it’s a family business, and you’re not part of that family’. 

Crowley smiled at the grumpy voice reminding him where he belonged.

‘Second, in any decent business the head of HR would be informed of the inner workings in a situation like this’, Bobby slipped his hands under the robe to massage the shoulders, ‘Toxic place, that’.

‘Toxic and, still, I permitted it to consume a good part of my peace of mind for a decade’, Crowley breathed deeply, ‘Maybe that’s why I can’t wrap my mind around the concept of staying out of it’.

‘I get it. Too much time and energy invested’.

Crowley hummed in agreement and rolled his shoulders, relishing in the wonderful feeling of big and strong hands kneading.

The hands pulled his robe open until it fell to the floor and went back to the shoulders.

Crowley felt the thrill of anticipation.

Bobby’s hands covered more of his back, tracing the shoulder blades, the spine, holding the waist…

And then the palms made just pressure enough for him to lean forward until he was supporting his upper body on the table.

Crowley separated his feet further and got comfortable.

Fingertips traced the line of his spine again, this time reaching between his buttocks, and he shivered, ‘May I know what you intend to do, love?’

‘I’m resuming the mapping’, Bobby spoke, ‘And you said you’re ok with servicing’.

‘Oh, yes, I am’, he heard Bobby chuckling at the eagerness in the answer, ‘And being ravished by you, love, is a bless’.

‘Good’.

Crowley closed his eyes to focus on the sensations.

There was something to be said on Bobby’s concept of getting serviced.

He rubbed his middle against Crowley’s buttocks, hands grabbing his hips forcefully.

Luckily, there was a solid table under him, for Crowley’s legs gave out at that point. He was weak for feeling a cock hardening because of him, and that was happening very quickly.

Bobby let go of his hips, used one hand to open the buttocks and the other to rub the head of the cock on his hole.

Bobby was not pressing to enter, not hurried to come, not really demanding anything but the slow building of his orgasm.

Crowley felt the precome leaking from his partner, the cock smearing it on his hole, and on his perineum, and the pressure just enough to make him groan in pleasure and just the right hint of frustration. 

He heard Bobby’s breathing altered and the grunted words of arousal, and lifted his ass a bit more, in a show of compliance and some hope for the bit of friction that would take him over the edge.

Bobby took the opportunity and intensified the rubbing.

Crowley’s whole body tensed.

He was so, so close.

That was so, so good, and still, not enough.

‘Here you go, hun’, Bobby said.

Crowley perk his ass even higher, and was going to say ‘yes’ in acknowledgement, but Bobby entered him in a swift easy move to explode inside him, and the ‘yes’ came out in a yell.

Bobby still stayed in place for a long moment, making lazy circles with his hips and kissing Crowley’s back, making him shiver.

‘Nice?’, Bobby slipped off and nuzzled Crowley’s nape. 

‘Maddening’, was the answer, followed by a chuckle, ‘I loved it’.

 

xxx

 

Crowley proposed they snuggle on the sofa, so he could ‘calm down into the arms of the most perfect lover in the world’, and Bobby agreed – not just because he loved snuggles himself, but because he understood it was part of the sex game.

Bobby stretched on his back and Crowley adjusted to lie while straddling one of his thighs, and given the looseness of silk robes, there was not much between them.

They chatted, exchanging caresses and stories.

When Crowley sat on the sofa to reach for his phone, he raised his brows, ‘New e-mails related to Hells’ Bells’.

‘Uhm’, Bobby accepted his own phone, that Crowley picked for him, and sat by his side, ‘I’ve got one’, he made a face, ‘It calls everybody back Wednesday morning’, he looked at Crowley, ‘What you have?’

‘That one, and another from Abaddon. She wants to see me tomorrow morning’, Crowley raised his eyes to Bobby’s, ‘You know what it means?’

‘That we have to part for at least some hours’.

Crowley rolled his eyes.

‘Kidding, idjit’, Bobby smiled, ‘It means you’ll finally find out what she expects from you’, he scratched his beard, ‘I can leave you there and go to my place to check things out and pick some clothes, if you think I can stay some more days with you’. 

Crowley decided that he would put his phone away with Bobby’s, so he took it from the man’s hand and, to reach the spot besides the sofa, he had to temporarily straddle the man’s lap, ‘That would be lovely’.

‘Are you seducing me, Princess?’

‘I’m calling your attention. The seduction is fulltime’.

They kissed, smiling through the quickly deepening joining.

‘I kind of feel like I should be sorry’, Bobby murmured against the other’s lips, ‘I’m not used to be this horny’.

‘I’m not used to be this loved’, Crowley sighed, joining their foreheads, ‘Let’s not apologize for experimenting new good things’.

‘You’re right’.

‘I often am’.

‘Then, Mister Know-it-All, I’ll just sit here and let you decide how you’re going to finish what we started earlier’.

‘You’re such a gentleman’.

Crowley parted from Bobby, took off and threw away his robe, opened Bobby’s wider and, staying on his lap, held both cocks in his hand to massage them while they kept kissing.

(Coming while staring into each other’s eyes was the kind of new good thing that made worth experimenting.) 

 

Xxx

 

Bobby parked the truck in front of Hell’s Bells’ building, next morning.

‘Thank you for the lift, love’, Crowley said, dealing with his seatbelt, ‘I hope your apartment is safe and sound, and that you choose some pretty clothes to take with you’.

‘I’ll try to be creative’, Bobby answered playfully, but then got serious, ‘You take care of yourself. Don’t let those devils hit you’.

‘I will and I won’t’. 

‘First one back home sends a message’.

‘Promise’, Crowley smiled, ‘You shouldn’t worry so much. In some hours we’re be back together’. 

‘We talked about that. They’re monsters’.

‘No monster has a chance with this power couple’.

Bobby rolled his eyes affectionately, ‘Give me a kiss and get off my car’.

‘Pucker up, buttercup’.

 

 

Xxx

 

 

Crowley entered Hell’s Bells building and immediately felt something different that he couldn’t quite identify.

He greeted the few people inside – cleaning and security staff, mostly – and went to the elevator, intending to go directly to the meetings room.

 

xxx

 

 

The ride up was spent trying to put a finger on his discomfort. 

Of course, a meeting with Abaddon under any circumstances was something to be worried about. She was cunning and bold and, to someone like him, who felt safe dealing with reasonable and/or predictable people, not knowing what was going on in her mind put his mind in overdrive.

Bobby had helped in calming him. In fact, the man was distracting in the best way possible, and Crowley was able to not spend the last days trying to foresee as many possibilities as he could.

Maybe he should be worried about not being better prepared.

But no, he was not. That was not the source of his sensation of strangeness.

Could it be that, now that he was by himself, all the weight of being back in Hell’s Bells – in fact, the feeling of living Hell’s Bells as he had been for the last decade – was catching up to him?

Well, now it was a matter of moments for him to find out what that was going on and, hopefully, understand why he felt so different about the place.


	18. Hell?

Abaddon received Crowley promptly and the meeting room was a lot more illuminated than he remembered it ever being.

Well, she was obviously engaged in conveying the message of change.

He managed to feel reasonably comfortable when he took a seat.

Her tall frame stood at the other side of the big table, arms crossed, facing him, ‘One of the things to like in you: punctuality’, she smiled charmingly, ‘Very British’.

He was going to correct her, but she had known him with his kind of generic accent, so he let it go, just offering a nod on the subject, ‘I take it mentioning one of my qualities is your way of stating you consider me a valuable asset’.

‘Other good thing about you’, she baited her lashes, ‘Straightforwardness’.

Now he just raised his brows.

‘Ok, I’m going right to the point’, she said, suddenly all business, ‘I’ll take the Presidency. Not Vice-Presidency or any other fantasy title to respect Lucifer or whatever. He is gone. He, Azazel, Alastair, they’re finished and it’s time for the company to move on’, she pointed at him, ‘And we both know you have some ideas on that’. 

‘You must be aware my ideas were never considered aligned to the core of the firm’.

‘You always focused on making Hell’s Bells more efficient as a whole business’, her eyes gleamed, ‘That’s what I want’.

‘What exactly are you offering me?’

‘Vice-Presidency. Total power to change whatever you want’.

‘We both know that’s not what Vice-Presidency means’.

She started walking slowly around the table, ‘As long as you keep in line with the general aspects of business, it will be’.

‘The general aspects have been a thin line between profit through clever schemes and profit through dubious loopholes in the law’.

Abaddon pulled the chair beside Crowley, sat and turned it to face him, ‘We can’t go against our essence. We were born from Chuck’s believe that a business needs two faces: Pearly Gates always was and will always be about organized tasks and following rules; Hell’s Bells always was and will always be about boldness and challenging limits’.

Crowley turned his chair to face her, too, ‘And those things stay’.

‘Yes. Those stay’, she leaned a bit towards him, ‘The guys who couldn’t stop themselves from going too far are not here to mess with things, anymore’.

Crowley nodded, not even slightly motivated to comment on that, ‘I’m listening’.

He knew that light smile on Abaddon’s face – the smile that spoke of her finding a situation lots of fun and knowing exactly what she was going to say next to impose a turning point in the conversation.

She didn’t disappoint.

‘I have here a list of names and the positions where I want them’, she picked a piece of paper from an inner pocket in her blazer, ‘That’s where you’ll start’.

She didn’t hand the paper to him, and he didn’t make a gesture to reach for it.

‘You’ll take a look, bring on guidelines for each brand and add names under the ones I chose – the whole HR thing you’re so good at. I want it ready by tomorrow’. 

Crowley frowned, ‘So, you expect me to stay and go right to work?’

‘You may take it home, or you can go to your office’, she played with the leaf, folding it, ‘You can do it by yourself or call the unicorns…’

Crowley raised one eyebrow at the reference.

‘Yes, I’ve been closer to Meg Masters. She is cunning and has no crises of conscience, what is very useful. Besides, she never hinted at wanting to climb too high…’, Abaddon smirked, ‘The same goes for you, what makes both of you very reliable in a place like this’.

‘I see’, Crowley pointed at the sheet in her hand, ‘I guess she is the new head of Selling?’

‘Curious?’

‘You could say that’.

‘I know you always wanted Selling, Crowley. But I have bigger plans for you’, Abaddon had that mischievous smile again, ‘If everything goes well – and I’m sure it’s going to – I’ll take a very deserved vacation’, she grinned and stretched her arms leisurely, ‘After all, I have the same blood as Lilith’.

Crowley crossed his legs, ‘You’re implying I’ll occupy your place’.

‘Maybe you deserve that’.

He squinted.

‘Of course, not everything is flowers and unicorns’, she winked at him.

He scoffed, ‘Of course, not’.

‘A scandal like the one we’re currently going through has heavy consequences on business. Some stupid clients are calling to cancel contracts, saying they don’t want their labels and public images linked to us’.

She spoke and rolled her eyes in aggravation, and Crowley got the line of thought, ‘You think a new face is going to calm them down’.

‘Jackpot, dear! We give them mine, right now, then yours, soon enough’, she pointed at him, ‘Someone who is not family, who worked with Pearly Gates – the profile of a potential traitor is going to work beautifully’.

Crowley decided again it was not worth commenting. He frowned and moved on, ‘But contracts have been already cancelled’, he stated, ‘I wonder the size of the problem’.

‘Huge’.

‘Knowing you, certainly there is a plan already in the go for that aspect of the situation’.

She grinned proudly, ‘Have you heard of Dick Roman?’

Crowley sat straighter in the chair, ‘I’ve looked for information about him as soon as his presence took the media meteorically’. 

‘Uhum’, she was quite excited, ‘He is an investor but, contrary to most investors, he likes the spotlights’.

‘Intriguing, isn’t it?’

‘Very much so’.

‘Unless he is a billionaire who helps business like Hells’ Bells for naiveté or a good heart, I see some red flags in any show of interest on his part’.

‘I love how you always make your homework and has relevant data to add’, she praised then scrunched her nose, ‘He made contact and we had some meetings, already’. 

‘And?’

‘And he is obviously dangerous – calm, collected, sure of himself without fanfare. The contrary of most men in Hell’s Bells’ family, by the way’.

Crowley tamped down a shiver and nodded in agreement.

Abaddon went on, ‘He acts as if he is going to take over: every word he says sounds like a very, very strong suggestion that you’ll pay dearly if you don’t follow’. 

‘A tyrant?’

‘Yes, and not the stupid kind. I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t get too powerful’, she made a vague gesture, ‘Let it to me’.

Crowley pursed his lips.

Abaddon was not looking at him. She got up, folded paper in hand, ‘So, you do whatever you think better to analyze my list, bring your input, I give the final word, I announce the decisions Wednesday when everybody is back, and we give Hell’s Bells’ makeover a start’.

Crowley observed her walking around the table again, resuming her small speech, ‘You will, of course, be free to form your own close group of allies – assistants, I mean. I guess you’ll want to keep your current people, and I don’t care, as long as everybody follows the rules’. 

He kept watching.

She stopped where she had started, at the other side of the table, ‘Well, you have the general facts’.

He nodded.

Abaddon clapped happily, ‘Ready to start?’

 

 

Xxx

 

Crowley paid the taxi driver and stood on the sidewalk of his apartment building.

He picked his cellphone from his coat pocket while he moved to the front door.

No messages from Bobby meant the man still was in his own apartment.

Crowley sent him an ‘I’m home, darling’ followed by a string of hearts and was pondering on what to add, crossing the lobby, when a familiar voice called him.

‘Fergus!’ 

He was taken completely by surprise when he heard his first name.

Before turning to answer the only person who called him that, he quickly wrote and sent, ‘Mother here. I’ll keep you updated’.

 

 

xxx

 

 

Crowley was sitting at his preferred spot in his sofa, legs crossed, a hand supporting the side of his face, trying to control his impulse of glaring at his mother’s bag. 

His brain was insistently urging him to tell her she was not staying, this time, maybe telling her she was never staying, ever again, because he finally had the strength to protect himself from her presence…

But she was in a roll and he still hadn’t found the right moment to cut her off.

‘…and he had the gall to say I should pay for my own dinner, once I was so open-minded’, Rowena was saying, ‘What kind of man thinks it amuses his date?’

Crowley feels like dying when his mother is at her most detestable self, and she seemed invested in being detestable, since her arrival: she had started ranting over some hotel she stayed in Paris – or Rome, she lost him the third time she stopped the narrative to compare European five star hotels, listing how they failed her unreasonable demands –, told in details how she had met her last beau and proceeded to explain why he should be grateful that she had given him her attention, in the first place.

Crowley knew her mother was high maintenance, that she didn’t have any friends and that the money he gave her each month was not enough for her to keep her luxurious lifestyle. It meant her time was carefully organized between having fun with lovers she chose and hunting rich stupid men who would agree to pay things for her.

He was fighting to keep an interested face.

He wished he could be more engaged in the conversation, maybe tell her it was time for a change, but he knew there was a script that she would follow, sooner or later: she would bring up someone’s inconvenient and/or stupid and/or whatever attitude that she thought was similar to something her son does/did/surely is going to do, and then she would talk for hours about how much of a fail he was.

Crowley trained himself to zone out in order to keep his mental health somewhat intact, and he was not sure he could escape the habit.

‘It’s like I already told you: a real man must recognize what is worth spending his money in’, she made a gesture with her hand to indicate his living room, ‘This, for example…’

Ah, there it came.

Crowley breathed deeply.

Surprisingly, instead of zoning out, he felt annoyance bubbling inside him.

‘…works of Art worth millions. Some baffling things, but we’re talking investment, here…’

His eyes went to her bag on the floor and he felt like he could turn it into flames at any moment.

‘…this rug is obviously not Eastern enough to be valuable…’

He wondered how really disinterested in him she must be to not notice his distress.

‘…would it be Indian? Turkish? I don’t remember, but you surely can buy a real one on-line…’

After all she did to him through his whole life, she had the guts to spend his time with her unsolicited opinions.

‘…sometimes, a change is needed’.

‘Mother’, Crowley said, suddenly, as if her words had poked him, ‘I can’t have you as a guest’.

‘What?’, her eyes went large for a moment, then she settled again, ‘Oh, I should have anticipated something like that’.

His heart stammered, ‘You… should?’

‘I’ve read about the scandal in the newspapers – once you didn’t care to send me a wee small message about the situation in your firm’.

He deflated, his hope she had been wondering about his personal issues, ‘Why would I do it?’

‘What kind of question is that? I am your mother! I have the utmost interest in all that concerns you’.

He made a face, ‘Are you hearing yourself?’

‘Are you hearing yourself, mother’, she corrected him, ‘Have respect’.

‘I don’t believe it’, Crowley huffed.

‘Oh, that is something I really should have expected’, she raised her chin and threw him an accusatory glare, ‘We reached the day when you turn into the old woman’s boy’.

Crowley froze, ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘She used to treat me as a nuisance – imposing rules, prohibiting everything. I never regretted leaving. But now it comes back to bite me: my own son mimicking the shrew that raised him’.

His jaw fell.

She kept the accusing glare.

‘First of all’, Crowley said when his brain stopped short-circuiting, ‘You never even mentioned her to me. You always pretended you didn’t know what happened. So, please, don’t bring her up now, out of nothing, just because I’m saying you can’t stay’.

Her nostrils flared.

‘Second: she didn’t raise me. When she found me, I was no longer a child, as you know very well’, he grinded his teeth, ‘The one who taught me how family worked was you. Better saying: the one who taught me how it feels not to be loved by the only family I knew was you’.

They kept staring at each other.

Crowley waited, tense.

He had been craving that conversation for years.

He had rehearsed in his mind what he was going to say, and imagined a thousand possible outcomes.

This situation was not ideal, but he had managed to convey his two main points – the silence over his adoption and the way his mother treated him as a child. 

The ball was not in his court.

Rowena gulped down, her eyes showing a kind of turmoil Crowley had never seen. 

The anticipation took him.

‘I’m not discussing my past and my decisions with you’.

Crowley opened his mouth to retort that those things were not just hers if they affected him, but he noticed her joining her hands on her lap, trying to appear calm and collected while her fingers fidgeted, exposing her nerves, and he forced himself to keep quiet.

The silence stretched.

‘I couldn’t get attached to you’, she spoke suddenly, ‘If I did, I would do what she tried to curse me to – settle for the local boring life’.

‘That was why you always left?’, he looked at her in disbelief, ‘Because you refused to live the life she wanted you to?’

Rowena shrugged.

Crowley didn’t know what to say to that.

He had been waiting for that answer his whole life, and now he had it.

What difference did it make?

‘Luckily, you always made leaving easy, with the sad moods and the snot running from your nose when you cried’, she made a vague gesture towards him, ‘Just look at yourself now. Nothing changed – still too sensitive and easy to get distressed’.

The pain of hearing her despiteful words was searing, but a glance at the woman changed everything.

She had spoken while looking pointedly away, and he recognized himself in that attitude.

He spent his whole life fighting the small nervous gestures, like her.

He spent a lot of energy into keeping a façade of coolness, like her.

He acted through hidden motives he didn’t want to discuss, like her.

He failed to realize other people may have the same eagerness for acceptance and love he had.

Like she had done to him, since forever.

They were so similar it hurt.

Suddenly, he could see the rebellious young girl who didn’t accept any orders and fought to break free of everything that kept her bounded.

He understood she was a stubborn and cold young woman who would do anything in order to never admit defeat and be back to the life she rejected with her tail between her legs.

Rowena had rejected and left behind her family to live the life she wanted.

Crowley, on the contrary, had lowered his head and accepted whatever he was given, afraid of losing even those crumbs.

They were so different it hurt.

Hating her didn’t make sense, suddenly.

There was a void inside him, where the pain caused by her used to be.

He didn’t know how he felt about his mother, anymore, but he was too tired to try to figure it out in that moment.

When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm, ‘I wish I could tell you some things that just occurred to me and that may be quite useful on future meetings’, he opened the knot of his tie a bit, ‘But I’ve had a difficult day until now, it is not over, yet, and I’ll ask you to have the sensibility of sparing me for the moment’, he got up from his chair, ‘I’ll call a taxi for you’.

‘You are going to send me away just like this?’

‘I’m not sending you-Oh, you know what? Yes, I am’, he didn’t alter his voice, ‘I can’t have you here, now’.

‘You can’t have me or you don’t want to?’

‘Both’, he reached for the interphone, asked for a taxi and put it back in place.

Crowley didn’t turn back to her immediately.

He didn’t want to resume the awkward conversation while they waited, but he didn’t know what else to do. 

His cellphone buzzed in his pocket and he picked it up.

It was a message from Bobby: ‘I’m going up. Act natural’.

Crowley was wide eyed.

‘What is it, Fergus?’, Rowena’s voice startled him, ‘Something you may want to share with your mother? Or you have decided to cut me off your life definitively, as if I were a stranger?’

Crowley pocketed the phone and turned to her, ‘I would say it’s none of your business-’

She straightened her back, indignant, ‘Fergus!’

‘But, unfortunately’, he went on, still calm, ‘Someone I didn’t want in touch with your evil presence is going to’.

A curious frown made her falter.

But she quickly recovered, ‘You’re being terribly rude’.

‘I warned you it was not a good moment’.

Rowena got up to face him, ‘You’ve changed’.

‘I don’t know how much you really care, but yes, I changed, and I am pretty sure it is for the better’.

She looked at him from head to toe, ‘And you don’t intend making me a part of it’.

‘I don’t know’, he looked away, ‘Right now I just want you to leave’, he chuckled bitterly, ‘I never thought I would say that, after all that you-‘, he shook his head, ‘After all that happened’.

Rowena gave a step closer to her son, ‘Are you sure you don’t prefer to count on me right now?’, she gestured for the phone, ‘I guess you are involved with someone. I’m experienced. I can help you’.

It felt surreal, ‘Pardon?’

‘You were always easily impressionable, darling. I wouldn’t be surprised if some young pretty thing has wrapped you around their little finger’.

Crowley was so shocked he didn’t know if he laughed or told her to shut up in order to not embarrass herself any further.

Luckily, the sound of a key broke the moment.

The door opened and Bobby was there, his bag in one hand, a box of chocolates in the other.

He stepped in, let go of the bag, went to Crowley, used the free hand to palm his cheek and leaned in for a gentle greeting kiss.

(Gentle but, as always, with the hint of tongue.) 

When they parted, he smiled, ‘Hey’.

Crowley smiled back, ‘Hello, Robert’.

‘Who is that, Fergus?’

Both turned to the redhead who was watching the scene with a deeply confused look on her face.

Crowley cleared his throat, ‘Mother, this is Robert Singer’, he gestured to Bobby, ‘The young pretty thing’.

Rowena looked at Bobby as if she doubted her own eyes.

Bobby scrunched his nose at Crowley, ‘What the Hell did you just say?’ 

‘I meant to say you’re my partner’.

Bobby nodded, satisfied for the moment, and looked at Rowena, ‘He means partner as in boyfriend’, he turned to Crowley, ‘Let’s not risk another misunderstanding’.

‘Yes. As in boyfriend’, Crowley smiled, then remembered to complete the introductions, ‘Robert, this is Rowena McLeod, my mother’.

Bobby greeted her nodding from a distance, arm around Crowley’s shoulders.

The redhead blinked many times, then gestured to them, ‘For how long has it been happening?’

‘It depends on what you’re talking about’, Bobby chimed in, ‘We’re officially a couple since Saturday, but we’ve been kind of together since we met – it would be five months and a bit’.

Crowley felt the heat in his face at Bobby implying it had been love at first sight.

(He filed that info for later use.)

Rowena broke his reverie, ‘It didn’t pass through your head to tell me about it?’

‘No. Not really’.

‘I see’.

The interphone buzzed, and Crowley went into motion, immensely relieved, ‘It must be your taxi’, he reached for her bag, ‘I’ll-’

‘You don’t have to’, Rowena picked the bag, ‘I can do it’, she made a fierce gesture with her hand at him, ‘And I know the way out’.

Crowley, against his own good senses, followed her to the elevator and waited for it by her side.

Bobby stopped at the apartment door, watching and ready to intervene if needed.

Rowena spoke without taking her eyes from the changing numbers, ‘I’ll pick the most expensive hotel I can find’.

‘I guessed so’.

‘I’m going to ask for every paid service they offer’.

‘It’s your right to spend her money, too’, Crowley answered, ‘I didn’t forget we have the same blood’, there was a pause, ‘I never did’.

Rowena turned to look at her son, and saw his tentative expression.

He had not said they were a family, or that he couldn’t completely cut her off his life, but he had strongly implied both things.

A small but sincere smile blossomed on her face.

She nodded, waving her own white flag.

The elevator arrived, she entered and turned to him, ‘See you, Fergus’.

‘See you, mother’.

The doors closed, hiding them from each other. 

Crowley stayed there, staring at nothing, for some moments.

Then he squared his shoulders and turned to Bobby.

Bobby extended his hand, and Crowley approached and took it.

‘How you feeling?’, Bobby asked, closing the door behind them.

‘Is shaken a good answer?’

‘It’s clear enough for me’, he lifted the hand to kiss it, ‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘You have no idea how many things I want to talk to you about, love…’, Crowley let out a deep calming breath, ‘Can I have some tea?’

‘Sure. Take as much time as you need to organize your marbles’.

 

Xxx

 

They occupied the sofa, feet up, sharing the box of chocolates while Crowley sipped his tea.

‘So…’, Bobby prompted, ‘Where do you want to start?’

‘I’m not sure. I have a feeling that Hell’s Bells’ situation is more pressing, but I don’t want to be rude’, Crowley smiled tiredly, ‘Is there anything specific you want me to explain about the previous scene?’ 

‘I think I’ve got the basics’, Bobby pursed his lips for a moment, ‘You have another name, your mother looks a lot younger than she should, she didn’t mind us being together but minded you not telling her before…’, he squinted, ‘You could explain the ‘young pretty thing’’.

‘I said someone was coming over and she wondered if some ‘young pretty thing’ had got me ‘wrapped around their little finger’’.

‘Jesus’.

The shock was very short. Soon both were laughing.

‘I can answer your points very quickly’, Crowley said when he recovered, ‘I have another name because I was registered Fergus Roderick McLeod – with her own surname. When I was officially adopted, it was changed to Fergus Roderick Crowley, after the late husband of my grand-grandmother’.

‘Your first name is very Scottish’. 

‘Uhum’.

‘Do you like it?’

‘I don’t know how I really feel about it’.

‘Fergus…’, Bobby rolled it on his tongue, ‘I think I like it’.

Crowley adjusted his pants, ‘It sounds… engaging in your voice’.

Bobby grinned, ‘Must be the accent’.

Crowley reddened, ‘Moron’, he finished his chocolate and pushed the box away from him, ‘I’m done’.

‘Me, too’, Bobby put the box on the center table.

‘About my mother’s appearance: she lives basically exploiting rich men, and counts on her looks for that. I suspect she had me at a very young age, too, what means she may have just passed through the gateway of her sixties. On what she really minds…’, he sipped the tea, pondering, then completed, ‘…I don’t think I now her enough to emit an opinion’.

Bobby nodded, ‘I’m glad you had the guts to send her away. Not just because it leaves the place to us and I can grab you wherever I want, but because there’s already too much in your plate – no need to add the stress of trying to figure out where she fits in the new state of things’.

‘You are, as always, right’, he smiled at Bobby’s roll of eyes, ‘I feel like I can finally face her as an adult, without the bitter emotions of the child interfering’, Crowley sighed, ‘But not today’.

‘Because there’s other thing for you to worry about’.

Crowley gulped down, ‘I’m kind of anxious to tell you about my meeting with Abaddon’.

Bobby noticed the eyes focused on the tea cup, ‘Then take it off your chest already’.

‘All right’, Crowley breathed very deeply, released the air very slowly, and looked up, ‘She said she would take the lead of the company and offered me the Vice-Presidency’.

‘Uhm’, Bobby commented, purposely neutral.

‘And, if things went well, she would take off and leave the business in my hands, as soon as possible’.

Bobby just nodded in understanding.

‘I quit’.

Bobby had his trademark shocked face, fallen jaw and eyes large.

Crowley drank the rest of the tea in one big gulp and put the tea cup away, hands trembling, ‘Yes, Robert. I quit’.

Bobby composed himself enough to talk, ‘Why?’

Crowley huffed, his stress showing, ‘She talked about moving on and making changes in the business, but demanded the core things to stay the same – the things that made Hell’s Bells the chaotic and rotten place it is’, he gestured wildly, his voice raising, ‘I’ve seen it before. History will repeat itself: no integrity and new scandals around other names,’, he stared at Bobby, eyes aflame, ‘Can you believe she is already in negotiations with Dick Roman?’

‘That guy we researched? Who came out of nowhere, bought everything on his way and didn’t have a past Jody could trace?’

‘The same!’, Crowley was indignant.

‘His mug was enough for us to feel a shill in our spines. The thing with Jody just added to the creepy factor’.

‘I have the worst intuition about that man. It’s almost like he could… I don’t know, in some way be worse than the kinds of Alastair’.

‘That’s why you decided to leave the business?’

‘It weighted in my decision’, Crowley’s eyes filled with angst, ‘It’s like he is fated to hurt us, and I definitively don’t want that kind of menace lurking around anymore’.

‘But it’s not just that?’

‘No’, Crowley looked into his tea, ‘Robert, I…’, he seemed embarrassed, ‘I couldn’t stay there’.

‘Listening’.

‘I spent the last ten years of my life struggling with opposition, backstabbing, disorganization and that old-fashioned and borderline criminal family logic. The more Abaddon spoke, the more I saw the next ten years being the same, maybe worse – with the family increasingly out of the way, the potential for new fights over power is alarming’, his shoulders fell, ‘That’s not where I see myself for the next years’.

He didn’t raise his eyes, and Bobby was intrigued by the attitude, ‘If you’re so sure, what’s the matter?’

‘I quit because I didn’t see myself there, and I assumed you and Charlie would leave with me’, Crowley face-palmed, ‘I know it’s insensitive and egocentric, but it seemed the logical thing to do to take us all out of there’.

Bobby raised his brows in surprise.

‘I’m sorry about presuming. My decision is mine, personal, based on my own feelings’, Crowley went on a rant, ‘Charlie needs a job; you may, of course, stay there – after all, it was the place that helped you to move on-’

‘Wait’, Bobby cut him off.

Crowley lifted his eyes.

‘Where were you all the times I said that place was toxic?’

Crowley just stared back, uncertain.

‘I didn’t move on because of Hell’s Bells. I moved on because of you’, Bobby spoke earnestly, ‘I’d never stay there without you. And I’m sure Charlie won’t, either’, he made a face, ‘What you assume wrong is thinking she can’t manage a new job if she wants to’.

It took Crowley a moment to register what he was being told, and then he slumped on the sofa, breathing out in relief, ‘I was so worried!’, he shook his head, ‘The moment I left the building I started imagining you two going there every day without me…’

‘We could defend ourselves if that was the case’, Bobby teased.

Crowley put a hand over his heart, ‘Don’t even joke about that’.

‘Then stop being an idjit’, Bobby smiled, ‘You thought right. That place is not for any of us’.

‘Thank you, love’, Crowley offered his hand, and Bobby took it, ‘It occurred to me that Charlie could go to Pearl Gates through Castiel, but I intend on offering her money for her to start her own business’.

‘You can do the money thing. She is good and deserves the investment’.

‘But the godfather help to get a job is offensive. I get it’.

They smiled at each other.

‘And what about you?’, Bobby asked, ‘Plan on turning into an investor?’

‘I wanted to discuss that with you’, Crowley retracted his hand to undo the rest of his tie, ‘Once now we have proof that you ruined me for evil places and people’.

‘Uhum’, Bobby squinted, ‘All ears, here, Princess’.

Crowley nodded.

Bobby observed while he put away his empty cup and the tie, and joined his hands on his lap.

‘I’ve spent all my life feeling like I had to get somewhere, conquer something, make sure I was never powerless and left behind again’, his voice faltered, ‘When I met you, I started getting out of that mind frame’.

Bobby scooted closer, his eyes shining in expectation, ‘I like where this is going’.

Crowley leaned forward, ‘I think I could spend some time just doing things I like, no power games or shadowy interests attached’.

‘And it includes staying here, in your nest?’

‘Yes, it does include it’.

‘And what else?’

‘Learning new songs from and teaching some dance moves to a certain person I cherish with all my heart’.

Bobby grinned, ‘And what about travelling around?’

‘Oh, certainly! I would love visiting any place with that special person, but specially some place with a dog and a big yard, filled with rusty cars and fond memories’.

Bobby’s eyes watered, ‘You would?’

‘I would live there if I was invited’.

‘What?’, Bobby chuckled, ‘You and Dean bickering all day, then having chick-flick moments and pretending it never happened and you despise each other? No, thanks’, he dried his eyes, ‘But we can visit as often as we want’.

‘I’ll want it a lot’.

‘Ok’.

They leaned into each other for a loving kiss and the usual hint of tongue.

‘So’, Crowley whispered when they parted, ‘You’re all right with spending some time to fool around with me?’

‘We’d be fools if we spent our time not being happy and doing whatever we want to’.

Crowley’s face was pure adoration, ‘I love you so much, Robert’.

‘I love you, too, Crowley’, Bobby leaned his head to whisper into the other’s ear, ‘Fergus’, he nuzzled the neck, ‘My Demon King’, he kissed the jaw, ‘My Princess’.

‘Oh, dear’, Crowley shivered, ‘Get off of me. I need to blow you right now’.


	19. Stepping forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter.  
> Thanks to everyone who has shared this journey with me.

Crowley woke up from a deep sleep by a sudden movement.

He was in the bed of the Sioux Falls’ house, where he and Bobby were spending the night after a day filled with preparations for Sam and Jess’ wedding, that would happen in some weeks. 

What woke him up was his cuddling partner tensing and raising his head in the darkened room.

‘What is it, love?’

‘Someone’s pacing outside our door’.

Crowley went still to hear it.

‘That’, Bobby whispered after some seconds, ‘Got it?’

‘No’.

‘It’s Dean’.

‘Have I told you your hearing ability is creepy?’

‘No one is killing me inside my house but me’.

Crowley chuckled fondly, ‘And I am the Drama Queen’.

They fell silent, Bobby with an ear turned to the door, attentive to something just perceptible to him.

Crowley, with all his no-patience, soon resumed the conversation, ‘So, we have an agitated Squirrel on the loose?’

‘Yeah’.

‘He did seem bothered the whole day’.

‘Tried to sell us that bullshit on the suits for the wedding’, Bobby grunted, ‘Feeling objectified my ass’.

Crowley didn’t have to see Bobby’s eyes to know they were rolling.

He smiled in amusement and decided not to do any remark on objectifying asses.

He congratulated himself for the idea of paying for Bobby’s, Dean’s and Sam’s suits for the Big Day, and for Jess’ dress, too. 

Bobby didn’t even hesitate in accepting the offer. He knew Crowley’s tailor and knew Crowley himself could recognize quality clothes from a distance. Being such a clever and attentive man, he knew how important it was to him to make sure they wore just the best in such a unique event.

Dean, on the other side, resisted to wearing formal, insisting he would look ridiculous in a ‘monkey suit’. It took Bobby’s reasoning, Crowley’s huffing and Sam’s video call with puppy eyes for him to let his measures to be taken. 

(Charlie, being part of the family, could choose whatever she wanted to wear, all expenses paid by Crowley, too, and everybody could barely wait to see what she was going to come up with.)

‘I think I was quite convincing when I said I would be offended if he didn’t accept my present for Sam’s wedding’, Crowley frowned, worried, ‘Is it possible that he’s still trying to find a way to refuse it?’

‘Nah. He realized how important it is to you and Sam. Must be something else’.

‘You know what?’, Crowley patted Bobby’s shoulder to make him move and threw the covers aside, ‘I’ll see what is happening’.

‘Sure?’

‘I have to use the facilities, anyway. Two birds, one stone’.

‘Good luck’.

‘Uhum. If he makes a scene, I’ll cry for you’.

They pecked lips and Crowley left the room.

 

Xxx

 

When Crowley exited the bathroom, he closed the door behind him, looked at the darkened corridor and stopped to listen to any denouncing noises of a hidden presence.

He had done the same when he left the bedroom, watching carefully, looking to one side to the other, waiting, but no one was there.

Now, again, there was nothing.

Shrugging, he walked back to the bedroom and, the moment he raised his arm for the door handle, Dean appeared out of nowhere, ‘Hey’.

‘Bollocks’, Crowley hissed, his hand flying to his chest, ‘Where the Hell were you?!’

‘Sorry. I was waiting for you’, Dean made a gesture towards the stairs, ‘Can we talk?’

‘You were waiting for me? Humble little me?’

‘Yeah’.

‘Oh’, Crowley was surprised, but recovered and nodded, ‘Of course. We can talk’.

‘Come on’.

 

Xxx

 

 

Dean led the way to the kitchen, where they sat at the dinner table.

‘Before you start’, Crowley said, a finger in the air, ‘I must remind you I’m in a serious relationship with Robert Singer’. 

‘And?’

‘You’re creating situations to see me without him. I’m not looking for a mistress’.

‘Shut your trap’, Dean grunted with no real heat, ‘This is not a secret thing. Just wanted to have some… quiet to this… chat’.

Dean was uncharacteristically hesitant, and Crowley decided to go easy on him, ‘I’m glad to hear it’, he joined his hands on the table, ‘No teasing on my part, then. Tell me what’s on your mind’.

Dean munched on the words a bit, then squared his shoulders, ‘I want to ask how you…and Bobby… got together’.

‘Sorry, I don’t think I follow. What exactly do you want to know about it?’

‘How you knew… that it was meant to be?’

Crowley raised his brows, ‘Oh’.

Dean didn’t add anything. Just fidgeted on the chair.

Crowley’s mind was creating a lot of hypothesis, all of them related to Dean and Castiel’s endless game of tag.

Deciding to be as open as possible and see how the conversation developed, he spoke, ‘I don’t think I can point out the moment when we knew. I mean, of course, there was the moment when he informed me we were in a relationship – don’t laugh, it was exactly like that – but it didn’t feel like big news. Thus, I suppose some way I was aware. I think these things kind of write themselves’.

‘I know it’s different for each couple’, Dean said, softly, ‘But to me, there is always the moment when things click and you know it’s time to go forward’.

Crowley nodded.

So, that was the point: maybe Dean wanted some click for him and Castiel, and was afraid of not recognizing it.

Interesting.

‘Well, when I saw Robert enter my office, I felt he was different but couldn’t put my finger on what it meant. That initial sensation just got stronger at each word we exchanged’, Crowley smiled at the memory, ‘I didn’t want that conversation to ever end. To this day, when I’m with him, there’s no hurry to part. I never felt so safe with someone and, specially, so enchanted by someone’, he pursed his lips in thought, ‘The click was there, right at the start, but it took me some time to understand what it was’.

Dean leaned towards him, ‘You’re saying you didn’t realize you were into him?’

‘It was very clear that I was interested, but being interested is a vague concept…’

Dean nodded, and Crowley realized the Winchester was trying to rationalize the situation, turning it into a kind of philosophical debate.

He went for something concrete, purposely, ‘I was interviewing him for a position close to me; I had to pay attention and find out if we could work together. The novelty was how engaging I found him, from the start. That was undeniable and, as much as I could rationalize it – he is clever, he is well-read, he is gentle, he is so honest he sounds blunt, he is my type, physically speaking –, I knew there was something deeper happening’, he sighed, ‘And those profound bonds are not really explainable’.

Dean blinked several times at the ‘profound bonds that are not explainable’ thing.

When Crowley was going to ask if he had said something wrong, the Winchester cleared his throat and rerouted the conversation, ‘I get Bobby made a difference in the way you dealt with Hell’s Bells, then’.

‘Having him working by my side changed how I felt about working and life in general’, Crowley accepted the new topic, ‘He changed everything because he made me realize there was more to live for besides the power struggles. In fact, he made me realize I associated power with safety – and that’s stupid, but a typical reaction to living your life in fear’.

Dean gulped down, ‘You quit to protect him?’

‘When I pondered on Abaddon’s offer, his well-being weighted as much as mine. I suppose that’s what we call a healthy love story’, Crowley grinned and raised his hands to gesture as if he had puppets on them, ‘One smitten character wants the best for the one he loves, but he wants the best for himself, too, because he knows his happiness means the happiness of his partner’.

Dean smiled, ‘That’s nice’.

‘Have I ever told you that Robert gave me a cactus when I helped him to organize his working desk?’, Dean shook his head, ‘We were already close, but I was not certain he liked me as much as I liked him – well, in fact, I didn’t have any experience with reciprocating in romantic relationships, and I already knew I was falling for him; at that point, I was ready for a new heartbreak. When he didn’t comment on what I had done to his desk, after my effort to pamper him, I was sure he would be soon finding ways to tell me gently I had overstepped the boundaries’, Crowley grinned foolishly, ‘But then he gave me the cactus’.

‘And how was it a white flag?’

‘It was not a white flag. It was a gift that spoke of future projects together’.

‘Uhm’, Dean sighed, ‘I get it. A mission brings people together’.

‘Be careful, Squirrel. That’s not exactly what I said’.

‘What was it, then?’

‘It was not about external projects – succeeding at work or even at building a relationship. It was about helping each other to be better and happier’, Crowley squinted, ‘Do you get the difference?’

Dean gulped down.

‘That’s Healthy Relationships 101: a good partner is as invested in their well-being as in yours’, he tried to hide a smirk, ‘Of course, some may take it a bit too far and sacrifice themselves, in general for apparently stupid reasons that, when analyzed, reveal a deeply seethed feeling of worthlessness’.

‘Don’t need to twirl the knife’, Dean scoffed, ‘Once I told Bobby I wished my life was worth something and he asked if I was that screwed in the head’, he smiled bitterly at the memory, ‘Maybe I am’.

‘He is usually right’.

‘Yeah’.

Crowley made his voice low and gentle, ‘People like us – and I mean both of us, but Robert, too – were not told positive things when we were at an age when it would have benefited us greatly’.

‘But we can have it now’.

‘As long as we can accept it’.

They stared at each other’s eyes.

The silent understanding spoke of they both having some resistance to accept they deserved love. 

‘But, back to your question’, Crowley adjusted his pajama top to break the moment, ‘I always thought that the most difficult part of starting a relationship was making sure the other person feels the same. Robert made me find out it’s not’.

‘Pointed out calling you an idjit and telling you to stop the crap, I guess’.

‘In fact, no’.

‘No?’

‘We were in a quite… How do I put it without traumatizing you…?’

Dean made a face.

‘We were in the way to be intimate for the first time…’, Dean made a gesture for Crowley to go on, ‘I told him I was prepared for intimacy, but not sure I could deal with a relationship, and that’s when he described the kind of relationship we had and proved that we were already together’.

‘You’re saying you two found out sex is not important?’, Dean frowned, ‘That it’s not the point in a relationship?’

‘Darling, I must be frank with you: sex is very important to me and your father. We do it a lot’.

‘What about not traumatizing me?’

‘Sorry. What I meant is that sex is a… a layer in the delicious cake of a relationship, not the plate that serves as a base to all’. 

‘From where this comparison came of?’

‘Robert do things to me. I keep associating him with delicious things in my mouth’.

‘Really, man…’

Crowley smiled with fake innocence, ‘Grow up, Squirrel’.

That made both share a chuckle.

Crowley could feel there was more that Dean wanted to ask.

He decided to take a risk to move things forward (no-patience and all), ‘When I came here…’, he motioned for the house, ‘…for the first time, I was terrified’.

‘Of meeting me and Sammy?’

‘Of making obvious how inept I looked when compared to normal people’.

Dean blinked owlishly.

‘I spent my whole life thinking I didn’t deserve being loved. My own mother told me that a hundred times, then the woman who adopted me demanded that I become someone I wasn’t, then my wife was a stranger, then she died and took our son with her…’, Crowley cleared his throat, ‘You know the story. I never believed I could be accepted, even less, receive anything that resembled real affection, and I was convinced I was the one to blame’.

Dean was listening attentively.

‘Accepting to be Lilith’s minion and then working in Hell’s Bells were decisions taken by a person who didn’t believe there could be something better than that’.

The silence stretched.

Crowley resumed speaking, ‘Charlie started the change. I like to call Robert my Knight in Shining Armor, but he was more like a wild beast, because he threw everything out of place’, they shared knowing looks, ‘However, he stayed to pick the pieces up and build a new better thing with me’, he put a hand over his heart, ‘It’s sappy, but knowing you can trust the other person is going to be with you along the way makes all the difference’.

‘I get it’, Dean nodded, his eyes shining, ‘Having someone who sticks by you when things get ugly’.

‘Exactly’.

A new silence.

Crowley saw in Dean’s eyes that he was furiously thinking.

Again, not able to refrain from being forward, he spoke, ‘Listen up, Squirrel’.

Dean immediately focused on him again.

‘Physical intimacy is important in a relationship. It makes you comfortable with the one you love, it makes you know you can reach out and touch and be accepted when words fail you, and it makes sex feel like a blessed experience. However, there is a connection of the souls, involved in a close relationship, that I believe is stronger than any other type’. 

‘You mean ‘soul’ as in spirit?’

‘For God sake, get out of the Horror Movies’ fandom for a moment’, Crowley waited for Dean to stop rolling his eyes and went on, ‘When you have feelings for someone – good feelings, any kind of love humans are capable of included – there is an understanding that surpasses anything else. It’s like, suddenly, that entity that inhabits another body is so close to your inner entity that you know you’ll be there for each other, you know you’ll always cherish everything they are, even the flaws and lows, shames and regrets’, he leaned forward, ‘And you know they feel the same towards you, and there is no reasoning or denial that can stop things between the both of you from happening’.

Dean gulped down.

Crowley leaned back on the chair, breaking the intense moment, ‘I don’t think there’s a formula on how to approach someone with whom you feel that undeniable connection, but I can tell you there’s not really a way out of a situation like that without ripping the hearts involved to shreds’.

Dean fidgeted a bit, ‘You saying there’s no other thing to do but go for it’.

Crowley bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing.

‘What?’

‘Sorry, darling. I understand completely what you’re going through – the insecurities, the fear of losing someone you care so much about if you try to reach out for more’, Crowley sighed, ‘I apologize for my bluntness, but anyone who sees how you and Castiel look at each other has no doubts about what should be going on’.

Dean seemed a bit taken aback, but recovered quickly, ‘Is it that obvious?’

‘Obvious doesn’t cover it’, Crowley grinned, ‘It’s a ‘everybody is talking’ situation’.

The green-eyed Winchester facepalmed, embarrassed, ‘Crap’.

‘You’re clever and incredibly handsome. Just swipe dear old Cas off his feet already’, Crowley pouted, ‘The poor guy is lonely like a dog and keeps coming to you. How can you not reach out for your best friend, you egotistical twit?’

Dean was fighting a smile.

Crowley, satisfied with his work, got up from the chair, ‘I better go back to bed before Robert comes down to hunt me’, it was a joke, but both knew it was true, ‘I hope I have been of some assistance’.

‘Yes, you were’, Dean smiled sincerely, ‘Thank you’.

‘You’re welcome’, Crowley shrugged, ‘Anytime’.

‘Once you’re offering…’’, Dean changed his position in the chair, ‘I wanted to ask another thing’.

Crowley rested his hands on the back of the chair, ‘Yes?’

‘Cas said he trusts you to tell me the story on why you two fought’.

That was surprising, ‘He does?’

‘Yeah’.

Crowley pursed his lips, dealing with the information, ‘I don’t really know how to tell you…’

‘You never rehearsed it in your mind?’

‘Oh, yes. A thousand times’, Crowley rolled his eyes, ‘I just want to be fair. He is being generous, and I want to honor it’.

‘Don’t worry about that’, Dean assured him, ‘I get it’s a sore spot’.

Crowley nodded.

Thought a bit more.

Then, seemed satisfied with the version he chose, started, ‘We were introduced when I was sent to work in Pearly Gates, after the… incident with Alastair. Castiel was quite respected in the business, so I tried to gain his trust, but never really managed, even if I was at my best behavior there, afraid I would be sent back to Hell’s Bells and had to face the monster again too soon’. 

Dean’s eyes were fixed on him, following the story.

‘I was back to Hell’s Bells, some years later, and struggling. I enjoyed Human Resources, but I was constantly bullied by the other Heads. Most of them were from the original family, and I was seen as a lowly stranger who dared to think he deserved to be listened to’, Crowley made a pause to choose the next words, then resumed, ‘I heard through the grapevine that Raphael had been opposing Castiel in Pearly Gates, and it occurred to me that one big contract, shared by the two firms through the both of us, would help our causes against the powerful oppositions’.

Dean raised his brows.

‘No, I can’t explain why I decided to share it with him. At the time I thought I was afraid of not being convincing enough if I acted by myself; today I think I wanted him to see me as someone different from the other demons’, Crowley shrugged, ‘The fact is: I worked hard and managed something really big. It was a fellow business called Purg-a-tory. The place was filled with people who were never accepted in either of Chuck’s companies’.

‘I’ve heard of it’, Dean nodded, ‘Quite the secretive place’.

‘Yes. It’s almost as if Chuck was ashamed of it’.

‘I had a good friend, there. Benny’.

‘Never met anyone there with that name’, Crowley said, ‘Was he one of the big fish?’

‘No. Brilliant guy, but crazy to get out. No place to go up, there’.

‘Did he manage?’

‘I got him a place some tows over. He was doing good, but never adapted to working with no pressure, and ended up going back’, Dean was saddened, ‘He works day and night. We barely talk, anymore’.

‘I’m sorry to hear it’.

‘That’s ok. Go on with your tale’.

‘All right’, Crowley cleaned his throat to resume the story, ‘I called Castiel, convinced him to have lunch with me, suffered all kinds of suspicious glares and blunt offenses until he believed I had an honest proposal and ended up agreeing with my plan. I wrote the contract and gave it to him to push the negotiations forward while I kept working in Hell’s Bells as if nothing was happening, in order to not raise suspicions’, Crowley clenched his teeth, ‘Next thing I knew, Castiel had changed the contract and the whole thing turned into a Pearly Gates’ affair, all the credits to him’.

Dean was shocked, ‘He cheated on you just like that?’

‘My first reaction was: how is it that I can’t trust an angel?!’, Crowley gestured wide with one hand, ‘When I got to talk to him, I was so incredulous I just wanted an explanation’.

‘And?’

‘He said sharing such big power with Hells’ Bells, given ‘our nature’, was too dangerous’.

Dean pursed his lips, ‘It makes sense’.

‘Oh, it does’, Crowley let go of the chair to adjust his collar, ‘But, as much as I agree that the world is usually a better place when Pearl Gates’ methods win, Castiel was not negotiating with any of Lucifer’s followers, or one of the sickos of the family. It was me. I spent that whole damned lunch telling him my plans about turning Hell’s Bells into a more organized business; I spoke of integrity and renovation, and he said he agreed with me. You can guess how I felt when he, out of his higher morals, decided I was not worth the word he had given me’.

‘Wow’, Dean frowned, ‘Did it push you down in the business?’

‘Not really. No one knew about it, and people in Purg-a-tory are not the most talkative ones’.

‘So, your beef with Cas was the backstabbing?’

‘Yes, but not just that’, Crowley looked away for a moment, ‘I guess it hit me where it hurts more – one more time, I was abandoned and left to wonder what was wrong with me. I had done everything right: I looked for an honest contract, I wanted to share a large amount of power, I exposed all my plans, and still, it was not enough’.

‘Man, I’m sorry’.

‘Thank you for the sentiment, but there was a logic to his actions. A Machiavellian one, but a logic, and I could respect that, even if it hurt’, Crowley shrugged with a small smile, ‘And, let’s be frank: you would have done the same, if you were in his place’.

‘Probably’, Dean answered promptly, ‘But then, not now’.

Crowley raised his brows in surprise.

‘I trust Bobby’s choices. If you were not a good guy, he wouldn’t be with you. But it’s not just that’, Dean pointed at the other man, ‘You’ve proved yourself many times. You’re generous. You help people just because you can, no strings attached. And you use your brain to forgive – it’s great and rare. You deserve all the good things you get’.

Crowley leaned his head to the side, ‘If I tell you the same goes for you, does it qualify as a chick-flick moment?’

‘I think it already is one’, Dean made a face, ‘Damn’.

‘Bobby warned me of the possibility it happened between me and you’.

Dean laughed, ‘He’ll pay for that’.

Crowley chuckled and rubbed at his eyes, ‘How do we proceed, Squirrel?’

Dean thought for a moment.

Crowley waited, because it seemed a very serious question.

‘I was going to say you leave the room to break the moment and end the scene’, Dean said, then got up, ‘But there’s no need. It won’t kill us to go upstairs together’.

‘No hugs, I suppose’.

‘No hugs’.

‘All right’.

(If Dean’s hand rested a bit more time than necessary on Crowley’s shoulder when he clapped it as a farewell, neither of them commented on it.)

 

 

Xxx

 

 

Crowley entered the bedroom and approached the bed as quietly as he could.

(Not that it made any difference with his partner’s hearing, but he was a gentleman.)

Bobby was under the covers, his head on a pillow while he hugged another.

Crowley smiled fondly.

The man was hugging his pillow – the one with his scent in it.

He lifted the covers and spooned his partner from behind.

‘Hey’, Bobby said, ‘Long talk, uhm?’

‘A very good one’, Crowley sneaked his arm under Bobby’s to rest a hand on the pillow, ‘Your oldest wanted to have a conversation with me about relationships’.

‘Relationships?’

‘Uhum’.

‘And with you?’

‘I suppose we’re role models’.

‘But he wanted to talk to you, not us’.

‘Jealous, sweetheart?’

‘The contrary: he trusted you like he trusts me. He wanted one of us to talk and decided it could be you’, there was a smile in his voice, ‘Congrats: you’re officially in his favorite people’s list’.

‘Oh’.

‘You hadn’t realized?’

‘I think I had, but putting things in words makes them more real’.

There were some moments of silence.

Bobby broke it, ‘I can feel your heart beating like crazy against my back. Don’t think you can get back to sleep any soon’.

‘I’m having some urges that are not sexual, Robert. I may need some help’.

‘Wanna talk about it?’

‘Yes’, Crowley snuggled further against Bobby and spoke close to his ear, ‘Remember our game of Five Questions?’

‘Yeah. You haven’t used your last two, yet’.

‘I think I did use one when I asked you if you were all right about spending some time fooling around with me’.

‘You had quit a job that did bad to you, and had just sent your mother away in relatively good terms. I was proud and happy. That was not a hard question to answer’.

‘It was a hard question to ask’, Crowley nuzzled against Bobby’s hair, ‘Can you give me a pass on that and consider it the forth question?’

‘That’s new. Don’t know if I should change the rules like that’.

‘I know it’s a terrible thing to change the rules and don’t inform the other player, but humor me, please’, Crowley kissed Bobby’s neck, ‘It would matter a lot to me’.

‘Right’, Bobby sighed, ‘You have only one question left’.

‘Thank you, love’.

As if to give proof of his gratitude, Crowley kept teasing Bobby, lips nipping at his lobe and a gentle hand caressing his on the pillow.

‘May I ask my last question now, love?’

‘Uhm’, Bobby wiggled his hips to snuggle further against Crowley, ‘Go ahead’.

‘Will you marry me, Robert?’

Bobby froze and didn’t say a word.

Crowley froze, too, waiting.

‘Besides the obvious answer…’, Bobby reached out to turn on the bedside lamp, then moved slowly to lie on his back and face Crowley, ‘Why the Hell would you want to tie the knot with me?’

‘Just to make sure: the obvious answer is that I love you and want a piece of paper that guarantees I own you?’

‘Yeah!’

Crowley smiled down at his partner, ‘You’re so clever’.

Bobby just squinted.

Crowley got serious, ‘I want to make sure what is mine is yours, officially. If something happens to me, you inherit all of my properties. Well, I named Charlie and my mother in the will, too – I think it’s fair to my mother and Charlie is amazing and deserves what life didn’t give her, in terms of monetary safety… But that’s besides the point. What I want is that most of what I own go to you and then, when you’re gone, to the Winchesters. Of course, I think it’s most probable that I die first, because you’re just too wise and competent to be killed or even-’

‘Wait!’, Bobby cut him off, ‘You have a will?’

‘Rich people usually have one, darling’.

‘But you have made a new one after we got together?’

‘Yes’.

‘And you put my name there?’

‘There is no one else I’d trust with everything I have. And, if you decide to kill me, there is no one else I’d die in the hands of, but you; thus, it wouldn’t change anything’.

‘Stop it’.

‘It’s true’.

‘I know, but it’s creepy’, Bobby’s fingertips rested over Crowley’s heart, ‘Don’t keep repeating I could hurt you’.

‘All right. I’ll try to’.

Bobby kept staring into Crowley’s eyes.

‘What is it, love? Share your doubts with the class’.

‘Why signing papers? Why this talk about who inherits what, all of a sudden?’

‘Because I never had…’, Crowley looked away for a moment, then looked back, ‘…something like this with someone I truly loved’.

‘And this makes you need to tie things up?’

Crowley nodded.

‘I can understand the feeling’, Bobby reached for the other’s hand, ‘But we don’t have to involve money and all that jazz to be legally married’.

‘I’ll be offended if you propose we sign a pre-nup’.

‘Why on Earth, if you’re the rich one?’

‘Exactly because I’m the rich one and I want you to have rights over what is mine’.

Bobby sighed.

He stayed silent, looking at the ceiling.

He was obviously thinking very hard.

Crowley gulped down.

He was getting anxious. 

He decided to clarify what he thought was the problem, ‘We don’t have to wear rings, if you don’t want to. I just wish we had the legal bond. I’d feel safer knowing everything is settled and we’re free to go in every trip we have planned with no worries about money and properties’, he averted his eyes, ‘It may be my stupid old paranoia talking, but-’

‘I’m not signing anything if you don’t put a ring on my finger’.

‘Pardon?’

‘If you want things official, we’re not parading around without a visible sign we’re together. We’re not two shaken lovebirds starting a fling. I want people to know we’re stuck together and very proud of it’, Bobby was scowling, ‘I want wedding bands’.

‘Oh, love’, Crowley let go of Bobby’s hand to straddle his hips and face him properly, ‘I want it, too!’

‘Good’.

‘We buy those rings together or you want me to surprise you?’

‘I trust your taste. You’ll surprise me and ask me again properly’, the scowl gained a teasing inflection, ‘On your knee’.

Crowley had the happiest face, ‘Really?’

Bobby reddened in realization, ‘Not in public’.

‘No, of course not’, Crowley caressed Bobby’s hair, ‘Just our cactus as witness’. 

‘Good’.

‘You’re going to be showered in love and receive all the homages a god like you deserves’.

‘If you do it right, I’ll even dance with you in Sam’s wedding’.

‘Oh, dear’, Crowley pressed his lips on the corner of Bobby’s mouth, ‘What does count as right, in this context?’

‘You’ll have to use your imagination, idjit’.

‘I’ll be on my knee’, Crowley sighed, ‘The only idea that occurs to me includes you with your pants down’.

‘That’s a good one’, Bobby smiled.

Their eyes met.

‘What is it, Princess? Something else you want to tell me?’

‘Yes’, Crowley was very serious, ‘I’ve never known romance, before you. I thought it would never happen to me. In fact, it took me some time to realize that what you were offering was exactly the romance I needed – giving and receiving attention, engaging in things together, holding and being held when needed, or when it’s not needed, just for the pleasure of it’, he nose-kissed Bobby, ‘There is love in every small gesture you do. I feel honored to be the husband of such a wonderful man’.

‘Same here’, Bobby was moved, ‘You’re not just a pretty face’, they chuckled, ‘You’re the man who brought new light and warmth to this tired guy. If you think I’m wonderful, you better get a mirror, because you are too’. 

‘I don’t need a mirror if you keep telling me that’.

‘As if you didn’t like watching us in mirrors’.

Crowley just shrugged.

They pecked lips.

Bobby pursed his lips, ‘Did we just say our vows?’

‘Maybe; however, I don’t mind, once you’re an endless source of inspiration’.

To prove his point, Crowley’s hands started a very creative trail on Bobby’s body.

And Bobby, who was very resourceful, soon caught up.

 

 

xxx

 

 

Some time later, a topless Crowley had to take his tongue off Bobby’s mouth for a moment, to breathe, and at the exact instant the motor of the Impala was heard.

He straightened his back to see the headlights through the curtains, ‘Is that Dean?’

‘If it’s not him, someone is going to regret stealing his Baby’, Bobby answered, his hands resting on the other man’s bare chest enjoying how it moved with the panting, ‘But it must be him. He left a note under our door some time ago’.

‘Creepy hearing’, Crowley groaned, but relaxed a bit, ‘I wonder where he is going’.

‘What do you think?’, Bobby treaded his fingertips to the stomach, ‘You must have convinced him to seize the day, and there he goes’.

‘Oh’, Crowley frowned, ‘You are not worried? Your oldest could be doing something impulsive’.

‘I trust our oldest’s brains’, the hand came up and teased the nipples.

Crowley giggled, ‘Stop that’.

‘Why? No kids in the house, now’, the hands lowered again, this time to decisively reach for the pajama bottoms, ‘Wasn’t that what you always wanted?’

‘What I always want is to show you how much I love you…’, Crowley did small circles with his hips, ‘…again and again’.

‘That you show me all the time, idjit’, the hands palmed the hips under the clothing, ‘Relax and let’s have some fun’.

Crowley nodded, but was still pensive.

Bobby, to not be without anything to do while he watched his partner, kept loosening the other’s pants.

He managed to pull the half-hard penis out, and caressed it and the balls.

Crowley moved to lower his pants a bit more, ‘Something just occurred to me…’

Bobby’s hand caressed the balls gently, ‘What is it?’

‘If it’s the first time we have the house to ourselves…’

‘Uhm?’

‘We’re missing a golden opportunity’.

Their eyes met.

‘Reading table?’, Bobby suggested.

‘Oh, yes’, Crowley grinned, ‘Always had plans for that’.

 

THE END


End file.
